


Hedgehog's Dilemma

by NerJetii



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: A little bit of angst, Aphobia, Asexual Character, Asexual Obi-Wan Kenobi, Asexuality, But just a little, Cody is going to die of embarrassment before this is over, Discussion of sexual acts, Getting Together, Humor, I will add other tags and characters as I go on, M/M, Mandalorian Courting, Mando'a, Mutual Pining, Romance, discussion of sex, good feelings galore, it's unintentional but it is still there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 84,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerJetii/pseuds/NerJetii
Summary: Intimacy and romantic relationships are a tricky thing during war. They're even more so when you're a clone and you finally figure out you're really into your Jedi General.But that is not going to stop Commander Cody from getting the man he wants and maybe along the way he'll also learn that intimacy and romance and sex come in all kinds of forms.Especially when you're dealing with the Negotiator himself, High General Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 364
Kudos: 642





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So this story has been going around my mind for a very long time ever since I discovered that there were other people headcanoning Obi-Wan Kenobi as asexual. And then, more recently, I read 'diogenes (what makes a man)' and 'a lesson in attachment' both by 'someawkwardprose' and I almost cried because I saw so much of myself in the Obi-Wan Kenobi in those stories (by the way, if you haven't read those stories please go and read them 'cause they're simply amazing). 
> 
> It meant so much to me to read about asexuality and romance described in such a beautiful way and I felt the need to write something about it of my own. 
> 
> I don't know that I will succeed in my intent, but I want to contribute to the Asexual Obi-Wan Kenobi tag and Asexuality tag and I thought this was the right way.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The doors to the mess hall slide open silently as Commander Cody steps through. He nods sternly at the troopers that salute him, quickly making his way to the short line of brothers waiting to get their food. He does not speak, choosing instead to listen to the low rumbling of his brothers' voices. The mess hall is not quite full, empty tables scattered here and there, but the mood of everyone present seems to be subdued.

Cody understands that all too well.

They've come off a truly horrible campaign on some backwater planet he can't be bothered to remember the name of. Not many casualties, this time. But the prolonged state of unending alertness they've all being forced to keep for the past three weeks (courtesy of the Seppies ambushing them left and right), coupled with the general bleakness one can only find on a planet that is nothing but swamps as far as the eye can see, has left them all exhausted.

“Commander.”

Cody looks up at the smiling face of what is sure to be a rookie. “What's your name, trooper?” He may be tired but that is no reason to be rude to a shiny.

“CT-8558, sir. But my batchmates call me Singer.”

“Interesting name,” Cody says, taking a tray from the rack on his left and setting it down on the counter dividing him from the rookie.

“Uh, I tend to sing to myself when I'm nervous, sir. My brothers noticed and the name stuck to me.”

“You must sing a lot for it to become your name.”

Singer's smile is wide, the smile of a rookie fresh off Kamino and ready to take on the galaxy, as far from the longnecks as possible. “I get nervous a lot, sir. What can I get you, Commander?”

Cody eyes the rows of nearly identical military standard foods, and wonders why he's even bothering. “What choices do I have?”

“Bland soup or bland meat with a side of bland vegetables, sir.”

Singer is entirely too upbeat, but Cody tries not to take it personally. He looks at the food spread in front of him and sighs. The soup reminds him too much of the putrid water mixed with mud he's had to trudge in recently, but the prospect of chewing on the light-brown meat he knows has the same consistency of his plastoid armor makes the choice for him.

He points at the soup and Singer hands him a bowl of it together with a spoon. “Anything to drink, sir?”

“Caf,” he says with no hesitation. “Make it double, trooper.”

Singer looks at him for a moment before doing as commanded, no doubt recognizing how serious the Commander is.

Tray in hand, Cody turns away and looks around the mess hall, pondering where to sit. There are enough empty tables that he could sit quietly by himself without anyone around to disturb him. He craves a little tranquility after the days they've all had. He loves his _vode_ dearly but he always has to be a Commander around them, never shedding the mantle of authority. Cody doesn't mind being a Commander, he knows he has been created to be just that – Clone Commander 2224 – and that he is more than competent at what he does. He's stern when he has to be, kind with the troopers when he notices they need it, precise in the orders he gives and steady when the situation requires it. Still, it is nice sometimes to just be Cody and nothing more.

He takes a few steps in the direction of an empty table in the corner of the mess hall, when out of the corner of his eye, he spots a familiar Twi'lek girl smiling at him from a helmet propped on a table. Waxer, Boil, Longshot and Wooley are crowded around a table, heads close together as they discuss something between them.

Cody comes to a stop. The empty table beckons him closer with its promise of calm and respite, but the four troopers are the closest brothers he has and he always enjoys feeling their presence near him. On the other hand, does he have it in him today to listen to what he's sure has to be a conversation that will make him roll his eyes? With Boil and Longshot it can be no other way.

He heaves a sigh and walks over to them.

“Commander! Here to join us for this lovely late meal?” Wooley is the first to see him.

“I would never pass on the opportunity to eat the finest food the galaxy has to offer,” Cody deadpans sitting down next to Boil.

Waxer smiles at him as he sips his own soup. Next to him – across from where Cody is sitting – Longshot is trying and failing to eat his steak. He gives up and spears what's probably supposed to be a lumpy-looking potato instead.

Wooley snorts at him and turns toward his Commander, “Any chances of getting better rations soon, sir? I think I might prefer to eat bantha _osik_ to this thing.”

“Not anytime soon.” Cody notices the grimaces from his brothers, and he gets it. He would grimace himself were it not for the fact that he feels partially responsible for what they're eating. “I did tell him he needed to sleep before filing the request for rations but did he listen to me?” He chokes down a spoonful of tasteless soup. “ _Di'kut Jetii_ ,” he mumbles.

He doesn't miss the glances the others exchange at his words, but he says nothing, choosing instead to focus on his food. The _vode_ go back to what they were discussing before he joined them and Cody tunes them out. He knows that practically every single trooper in the 212th thinks that there is something going on between Cody and their _a_ _lor_ , but there really isn't. The General is simply kind and friendly. Cody is simply professional and accommodating of the _Jetii_ 's way of doing things. Nothing more.

He manages to eat half of his bowl of soup, before he has to take a break and wash it down with something more substantial. The caf isn't really that much better, but it's strong and it's hot and it burns down his throat, warming him from the inside. He smacks his lips after taking another long sip, the taste of caf still strong in his mouth as he goes back to the soup.

It's as he's taking the last few sips that his attention wanders to the conversation between his brothers. Even so, he has to admit that he cannot make himself really pay attention to what they're saying. He's tired enough that he simply lets their voices lull him into a calm state of mind where he does not need to think or pay attention to anything. A stupid mistake, really, one that Cody usually wouldn't have made.

“I can't believe he won. I mean, I wanted him to win, obviously, but I thought General Secura had it in the bag.” Wooley says before stealing a piece of meat from Longshot's plate and popping it into his mouth. “Even General Koon had a better chance I think.”

Longshot shakes his head, “General Secura is too serious, too direct. Why do you think all-work-no-play Bly got assigned as her Commander? That way of behaving makes her lose too many points. General Koon on the other hand is too...” he snaps his fingers looking for the right word. “Too fatherly. He wins for panache – and even that is a close one with General Windu – but he doesn't have much else to rely on.”

At his words, Boil reaches for the datapad he had left on the table by the side and taps frantically on it. And really, that should have been a red flag for Cody because Boil is never frantic. Ever. He can be aggressive and restless, sure, but never frantic.

“But look, the General won in practically every category! How do you explain that?” He shoves the datapad in Longshot's direction. “Don't get me wrong, I'm happy as anyone else for this but it's ridiculous.” He jabs a finger at the datapad. “He almost won in the elegance category and he was wearing _that_ under-tunic with _that_ hair!”

They all grimace at his words and Cody is starting to think that maybe he should intervene. Although, he has no clue what they're talking about.

“I bet he could win there now,” Waxer says with conviction. “He cut his hair and he looks much better like this, I think. And have you seen the new under-tunic he's wearing? It's much better than the one before.”

Wooley nods in agreement. “It makes his eyes pop out and it really complements the beard and the hair.”

His words are met by nods and murmurs of agreement. Even Boil seems to not have anything to say to that, and Cody cannot believe his eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

Four pairs of eyes turn to look at him. They look vaguely surprised as if they had completely forgotten who was sitting right next to them, at their same table.

“We were talking about General Kenobi's new clothes, Commander.” Waxer is the first to gather his wits to answer their Commander's question. “Don't you think they're much better than the ones he had before?”

Cody frowns. Either he has somehow fallen asleep while eating – and is consequently having the strangest dream he'll ever have in his life – or his _vode_ have finally lost their mind.

Longshot takes the Commander's silence as a chance to speak in his place. “Honestly, what was the General thinking? A white under-tunic with his complexion?” He snorts.

“To be fair, those cream colored Jedi robes are not a flattering look,” hearing Boil say anything regarding fashion is utterly terrifying in Cody’s opinion. “I doubt anyone could make them look good.”

Wooley speaks around the piece of steak he is still chewing, “Don’t let General Gallia hear you say that.”

“Or General Windu,” adds Waxer.

Boil and Longshot exchange a long look before reluctantly conceding the point to their brothers.

Cody, on the other hand, is having a hard time understanding what is going on. In fact, he is still stuck on the notion that, apparently, Ghost Company has decided that its main objective is taking note of its General’s fashion choices instead of focusing on the Seppies. And it’s not that Cody hasn’t noticed the changes in General Kenobi’s appearance – he had almost teared up at the new haircut that saved him from having to look at the mop the General had stubbornly sported in the beginning of the war – but he hasn’t spent that much time thinking about it. It seems, though, that his _vode_ have. Why is that?

“I am sorry, I think I am missing something here.” He tries to speak calmly, truly he does. “One of you better explain to me what is going on.” He stares at the troopers sitting with him. “Right now, boys.”

The four exchange unsure glances among them, likely trying to decide who’s going to be the lucky clone who gets to explain the situation to the Commander. Cody is a patient man, but at the moment he is too tired to let...whatever this is go on for much longer. He has to strike without mercy if he wants some answers, and he knows exactly who the weak link is among the brothers currently engaged in the most intense game of “You March On First, Vod” ever.

Cody moves the empty bowl of soup to the side and leans his hands on the table, eyes zeroing in on his target.

“Waxer.” He uses his Commander voice, the one he perfected on Kamino when he had to stop Rex from doing something monumentally stupid in front of the longnecks, the one that says ‘I’m giving you a chance, here’. It’s the voice that makes entire squads of shinies break down in tears because of the disappointment laced into it.

Waxer looks him in the eye and gulps heavily. He’s starting to sweat at the temples. His hands go around the helmet he’d left on the table, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on its surface. Cody knows he has him when Waxer’s eyes dart to Boil’s with a silent apology in them. Boil mutters a curse under his breath and lowers his gaze to the tray of half-eaten food in front of him.

“Well, Commander,” Waxer wets his lips. “It’s really nothing important, just some harmless fun. We, the _vode_ I mean...we just wanted to have some fun. We weren’t planning on telling about it to the General, we know how to be professional, sir.”

“Out with it, trooper.” Stars, he is too tired for all this.

Waxer jumps in his seat. “The General won the contest for the Most Desirable Jedi General in the GAR, sir,” he squeaks in a high voice.

As one, the other three brothers slump in their seats, releasing mournful moans under their breaths.

Cody’s sure he has somehow developed some kind of hearing impairment because there is absolutely no way he heard what he heard. Waxer has a strained smile on his face and looks about ready to cry, Longshot and Wooley are trying to pretend they’re somewhere else, faces hiding behind their hands. Boil, on the other hand, is staring straight ahead at Waxer with the expression of a man who has already accepted his destiny.

Cody takes a long breath and heaves a deep sigh that encapsulates the many regrets he has collected in his brief life – starting with the day he was decanted with these _di’kute_ as brothers.

He closes his eyes and focuses what strength he has left in slowly counting to ten – he knows, otherwise, he is going to _kriffin_ throttle every last one of his _vode_.

_Solus._

“Sir?”

_T’ad._

“I promise there is an explanation. Boil tell him there’s an explanation.”

_Ehn._

“We weren’t the ones who came up with all this. I mean...technically we were, but all the other Battalions were quick to jump onboard.”

_Cuir._

“He’s right! A shiny in General Billaba’s Battalion said she was the best Jedi ever _and_ the most beautiful. It would have ended there but Commander Bly got offended on General Secura’s behalf and then Fives said that General Skywalker was superior to both of them and at that point we had to stand up for General Kenobi, sir!”

_Rayshe’a._

“Wooley’s right, sir! We all know General Kenobi is the best and we’re not alone in thinking that – everyone who meets him agrees with us!”

_Resol._

“I mean, I don’t hear other Battalions talking about how the enemy _dar’jetiise_ , the space pirate and just about any politician ever met, flirts with their General.”

_E’tad._

“Commander Wolffe ended the discussion but everyone still wanted to know who was the best Jedi General. We wanted to avoid more discussions, sir. That’s why we decided to make it into a contest. Except then we had more discussions because everyone thought their General was better than the others at something or other and...well, sir, that’s how we ended up with so many different categories.”

_Sh’ehn._

“Waxer…please shut up.”

_She’cu._

“It was just some harmless fun, Commander. Really, we did not mean to disrespect the Generals.”

_Ta’raysh._

Cody congratulates himself for actually making it to ten. With every new detail of this contest for the best Jedi General, he feels a headache form right behind his eyes. He brings his fingers to massage his temples in the hopes of staving off said headache long enough to discipline his brothers. He really needs a long period of leave. He internally snorts at his tired thoughts. No way is any one of them getting any leave anytime soon.

When he opens his eyes, he finds the _vode_ looking at him with tense expressions. Except Waxer who keeps on smiling at him, making Cody wonder if maybe he is so terrified of what is about to happen that his smile just froze on his face. It is possible – Cody has seen people react in the most interesting ways to their impending death.

Cody lowers his hands back on the table, index finger of one hand tapping rhythmically on the table. He doesn’t speak immediately to his troopers, choosing instead to cast a glance to the mess hall instead.

He notices immediately how the tables near theirs are suspiciously empty, and makes a mental note to figure out who was seated there and recommend them for advanced training. They certainly need bright troopers capable of reading the situation and evading danger without being noticed. Cody refuses to let the 212th  lower its standards.

There are troopers here and there that are pretending to be eating while, in reality, they keep on glancing in their direction to try and see what’s going on. When they see Cody looking their way, they immediately lower their gazes, probably afraid he’s going to involve them in whatever punishment he’ll decide on for the four seated at his table. Cody doesn’t lie to himself – he probably would do exactly that considering the mood he’s in.

A flash of red catches his attention when the doors of the mess hall slide open. He doesn’t have as much time as he’d hoped to let his brothers stew and fear for their lives, not if he wants to avoid having his General find out what his troopers did in their free time. Cody watches his General approach Singer and he calculates that he has at least five minutes to deal with the situation. The General won’t be able to avoid spending a few minutes getting to know the new shiny.

He turns toward Boil and eyes him steadily. “How widespread is this thing?” He needs to know what kind of damage control he has to do. “Am I to understand that the whole GAR participated in the objectification of the Generals?”

Boil has the decency to look guilty as he answers, “Not the whole GAR, sir. Just the Third System Army...and maybe one or two troopers from the other Systems.”

So the situation is bad but not too bad. Cody can deal with this.

“Also none of the Commanders were notified of this, sir.” Waxer says eagerly.

“And why is that?”

Either Waxer doesn’t notice the way Longshot and Wooley are subtly shaking their heads or he simply doesn’t care. He looks at Cody as if the Commander had just asked an incredibly stupid question. “Well, sir, we wanted the poll to be as impartial as possible so we couldn’t let the Commanders vote. For obvious reasons, sir.”

Boil makes a wounded noise as Cody’s eyes tighten.

“What obvious reasons?”

Again, Waxer seems baffled by his Commander’s obliviousness. “Everyone knows what’s happening between Commander Bly and General Secura, sir. And Commander Wolffe is just one kind word away from asking General Koon to be his new _buir_ , while you sir-”

“What Waxer is trying to say, sir, is that everyone knows how loyal Commanders are when it comes to the Generals, it’s normal after all, you spend so much time together.” Boil’s voice covers the muffled words coming from Waxer as the man is shut up by a murderous-looking Longshot. “Not that we aren’t loyal, sir. The 212th voted as one on this. Every single man voted for General Kenobi. I must say, sir, you should be proud of us.”

The glare Boil receives is withering. Cody glances at the where General Kenobi is and realizes he doesn’t have much time left. Kenobi is finished with the conversation and, tray in hand, is looking around the mess hall to decide where to sit; behind him, Singer is looking at the General with the dazed expression every single shiny sports after their first conversation face to face with Kenobi. It’s only a matter of seconds and the General will spot them, thereby depriving Cody of the chance to savor immediately the punishments he was planning on dealing his brothers. Yep, there goes Kenobi seeing him looking in his direction. The General smiles at him and Cody nods, acknowledging that he has seen his superior officer. Seems like he’ll have to save the punishments for later.

He turns to look at the four _vode_ , “You are lucky the General is coming this way and I don’t want him to even get an inkling as to what you’ve done, but don’t think for a second that you won’t be disciplined. I want you four out of my sight before the General sits down at this table. And be sure to leave without rousing any suspicion. Just stand up, smile at the General and leave.”

The four scamper to their feet, turn toward General Kenobi who, in the meantime, has reached their table, and rapidly murmur a greeting before turning to leave. Boil reaches for the datapad on the table but is stopped by Cody’s cool voice.

“Leave the datapad, Boil.”

The man in question glances at the Commander and slowly retreats the hand he’d stretched out. He smiles at General Kenobi and quickly vanishes from sight.

“They were really in a rush,” says Kenobi sitting down in front of Cody.

“It seems so, General.”

General Kenobi must have had the time to go back to his quarters and shower with water instead of taking a sonic, because his hair is a darker shade of red than usual and it sticks to his skin against his neck. A wayward strand falls on his forehead, escaping from the usually neatly combed fringe.

A shower would explain why the General arrived so late to the mess hall. What it doesn’t explain is why Cody’s eyes follow the path a stray drop of water traces as it falls from the curling tip of the General’s hair right behind his left ear, down his neck, along the protruding collarbone, before disappearing from sight down the v-neck of the General’s under-tunic.

Cody shakes his head and stretches out a hand to grab the datapad Boil has left behind as ordered. A quick glance at the General reveals that the other man had been too focused on his food to pay attention to him. He feels relief sweep through him along with concern for himself – he really needs to sleep if his thoughts are straying from his normal professional pattern. Nothing a good six hours of sleep won’t fix.

He taps the datapad to light up the screen. The page that pops up is still the one with the results of the inane poll his soldiers have created. He scrolls rapidly through the various screens and reads about categories like: best fighting style (Kenobi won and Cody feels justifiably proud of that), best leadership skills (Kenobi won that too) and best memory (Cody taps that confusing one and discovers that the category is about how many clone names the General can remember – Kenobi won but apparently it had been neck and neck with General Koon).

“Interesting reading?”

Cody glances up in time to catch the grimace General Kenobi makes as he eats a spoonful of soup. He gulps it down and send a dejected look at the still full bowl in front of him.

“Enjoying the soup, sir?”

Kenobi sends him a betrayed look. Cody would normally feel bad for the General, for anyone really, forced to eat what passes for food in the GAR. This time, however, he can only raise an eyebrow as he looks at his General. The man can only blame himself for this, and he knows it judging by the deep sigh he heaves as he slumps over his soup.

“Would it make things better if I said that I have learned my lesson, Commander?” Cody doesn’t let up his deadpan gaze. “Oh dear,” General Kenobi murmurs morosely. “You didn’t answer my question,” he says, hoping to steer the conversation toward safer grounds.

Cody frowns, momentarily confused, before his eyes widen as he recalls what he’d been perusing a few moments earlier.

“It’s nothing of import, sir.”

General Kenobi hums distractedly while he keeps eating his soup. Every time he swallows, he does a weird face at the taste in his mouth and Cody is half-tempted to tell him to give up, but he’s not about to stop the man one of the rare times he decides to feed himself properly like a normal person. Cody knows that the Jedi do not exactly work like normal people do (not that the clones can be considered normal or people for that matter, if you ask the Republic), but still, there’s a limit to how many meals one can skip.

“It seemed rather important to me,” the General says after chewing his food, and if having to chew _soup_ isn’t a sign of the absolutely abysmal quality of said food, then Cody has to rethink his life. “You chased those troopers away so fast I barely had a chance to see them. Did something happen?”

There is a note of worry in his General’s voice that works a little too well at making Cody feel like he’s been backed into a corner. For all that Kenobi is always calm and collected, Cody knows he constantly worries about the state of the troopers under his command. Cody doesn’t want to pile up on all the things that worry his General in this war, but he also cannot let him know his men spend their time betting on things like his fashion choices, or his body and personality.

He needs to find a way out of this fast, before Kenobi feels the need to pursue what he perceives as something he has to personally deal with.

Cody places the datapad face down on the table, hoping to divert attention from it.

“It’s truly nothing you need to concern yourself with, General. Just something the men came up with that I need to address. It won’t interfere with our duties.”

General Kenobi nods and sets aside the bowl of soup. Apparently he has given up but, Cody notices, he actually ate more than half of it so the Commander decides to consider it a win.

Cody feels himself relax a little. The General seems to have accepted his intimation to not worry about what the _vode_ were doing. Cody is ready for his shift to be over. He does not normally anticipate the moment he will have to retire to his bunk and sleep on the hard mattress, but right now he just wants to grab some shut-eye. He closes his eyes and releases a deep breath – he can almost see his bunk already.

“Were Waxer and Boil here before? I though I saw Waxer’s helmet leaving the mess hall in a hurry.”

Cody nods without opening his eyes, trusting in that the General will forgive his momentary lack of professionalism.

“Hmm.”

Cody must be even more tired than he anticipated because General Kenobi’s hum strokes down his back in a completely unexpected way.

He hears a soft rustling and realizes that the General is likely stroking his beard as he always does when he’s concentrating hard on something. Cody cannot explain it, but he feels dread pool in his stomach.

Before he can react, he hears the sound of something moving at his side and scraping against the table’s surface. He opens his eyes to witness the horrifying moment General Kenobi calls the datapad to his hand with the Force. Cody attempts to grab it before it can reach the General but fails. He’s half tempted to scream at Kenobi that what he just did was misuse of the Force if he ever saw it, but he’s petrified by the way the General’s eyes are moving across the screen of the datapad, taking in all that it’s written there.

“I knew they were talking about the poll,” Kenobi says with a smug grin. “As soon as I saw those two together I knew what they were doing. I’ve been waiting for this for so long, Commander.”

Cody doesn’t know what to do.

It’s not the first time General Kenobi has left him in such a state. People liked to say that between Skywalker and Kenobi, Cody’s General is the calm and reasonable one but the Commander knows better by now. He has lost count of the times Kenobi has done something so incredibly reckless that he couldn’t even fathom how he came up with the idea in the first place. To say nothing of the man’s allergy to the sickbay. Cody had once found him cradling a broken wrist in his quarters and had to drag him to Bones so that he could fix him up.

It’s not everything bad, though. Sometimes Cody is left speechless by the absurd kindness Kenobi bestows on everyone around him. Kenobi is his General by less than a year, but Cody is loyal to him because the man deserves it, not because he has been genetically engineered by the _Kaminiise_ to love the Republic and the Jedi who stand for it. It is out of this loyalty, this camaraderie formed between them, that Cody feels the need to protect his General. Surely a poll where Kenobi is pitted against his fellow _Jetii_ would not please the man, not one where he was judged by his body, his personality, his quirks, like he was cattle at the market on the low levels of Coruscant.

But Kenobi is scrolling idly through the categories on the datapad with a slight smile quirking his lips. This is not the reaction Cody was anticipating and he doesn’t know what to do.

Out of instinct, Cody leans forward and snatches the datapad from the General’s hands, eliciting an immediate response from the other man, “Hey, I was reading it!”

“There is nothing to read.” Cody is shaking his head, frantically tapping on the screen to close any page even remotely connected to that blasted poll. “This is a colossal waste of time on the part of the troopers and it will be dealt with. Not to mention the disrespect shown to all the Generals. I can’t believe this thing started here in the 212th, this is the kind of behavior I would expect from those degenerates in the 501st.”

Cody is ready to curse every _vod_ ever decanted for the situation he’s been put in. He has enough things to deal with on a daily basis, he really doesn’t need this too. He’s close to cursing his General too, the other man is simply not taking this seriously enough. The 212th  is an extremely efficient Battalion because of the fierce loyalty and camaraderie formed between each member, all relying on the absolute trust and respect each trooper has for their General. If that respect vanishes and the troopers start to think they can treat General Kenobi with too much familiarity, the discipline present in all of them could lessen with catastrophic results. Cody is not going to watch that come to pass and do nothing.

General Kenobi heaves a deep sigh and slumps in his chair. Cody feels relieved – perhaps the General finally understands the severity of the situation.

“Could I at least know who won, Commander? I did not manage to read the result of the poll before you so rudely interrupted me.”

Cody really needs to learn to stop being so optimistic when Kenobi is involved.

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“Last I knew, General Secura was winning,” General Kenobi leans forward in his seat, clearly mistaking Cody’s words for interest in the poll. “Now, I will admit I would not be surprised if she won, those clothes she wears – absolutely _not_ Jedi standard, I feel the need to point that out – give her an unfair advantage on all of us, but I think I had pretty good chances of winning. Certainly better chances than Mace.”

Cody doesn’t know what possesses him to answer the inane question posed by his General. Maybe all those head-wounds he received are finally catching up to him. Maybe Count Dooku has found a way to curse him somehow, or worse Ventress has – he always knew nothing good could come out of Dathomir.

In the end it doesn’t matter, because he can clearly hear himself say, “You won, sir.”

And why does the General look so pleased about that?

“What are you doing, sir?” Cody asks as he watches Kenobi rummage through his pockets before taking out his comm.

“I need to tell Anakin.” Fingers tap away quickly. “He was sure he would win. He will be devastated when he learns I snatched the win from him.”

Cody can’t deal with this, he just can’t. General Kenobi looks entirely too giddy at the prospect of one-upping General Skywalker in such an idiotic thing.

He buries his face in his hands and preys to whatever deity might exist to wake him up from what must be an awful dream. Not only are his brothers insane for starting this thing, his General is not much better. In fact, General Kenobi might be even worse. Cody can understand, if not condone, the desire on the part of the troopers to find a way to pass their time and keep their spirits up in the middle of the war. But he draws a line at General Kenobi encouraging that kind of inane behavior.

He’s starting to think Alpha-17 was right when he said Kenobi would test his limits and then some.

He feels a warm touch to his wrist and raises his head to find General Kenobi staring worriedly at him.

“Commander, is something wrong?”

It’s not fair. How can he sound so genuinely concerned when he’s part of the problem?

“Why are you not upset by this?” He does not grumble behind the hands still covering half his face. He does not.

The General tilts his head to the side the same way he does when something confuses him. Next, Cody knows he will frown and a little divot will appear between his brows rapidly followed by a slight tightening of his eyes.

Cody observes as all these little things happen as he predicted, and he doesn’t know how to explain why it pleases him that he’s able to so accurately predict how Kenobi reacts.

“Why would I be upset about this?” Kenobi seems genuinely confused.

“It’s inappropriate for the men to rank their Generals in such a way.” It seems obvious to Cody.

The General exhales a breathy laugh. “Commander, you’re taking this too seriously.”

“I’m not,” he bristles. “The step from this to open insubordination is small, sir.”

Once again, Kenobi seems amused. “I do not believe it is. You’re doing a great disservice to the men, Commander. I trust each and everyone of you and I know that no one here will think any less of any of us Generals as a result of this poll.”

“But-”

The General raises a hand to stop him. “Cody, the men need a way to ease the tension caused by this war and I for one am glad they have found one. If anything, I feel this little poll will strengthen their loyalty and tighten even more the ranks. You do not need to worry, and I am not angry,” he smiles quite proudly. “In fact, I am quite flattered.”

Maybe it’s the fact that the General addressed him by name, not rank. Maybe it’s the fact that he seems genuinely proud of himself for winning this poll. Maybe General Kenobi is using the Force to make him feel better – wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe Cody’s sanity has abandoned him sometime along this conversation. Whatever the reason, he feels himself relax at his General’s easy smile.

“If you say so,” he murmurs not completely sure everything’s alright.

The General pats him reassuringly on his arm. “I am sure Cody.”

After that, the conversation moves to safer grounds, though Cody has not abandoned his decision to deal some kind of punishment to Boil, Waxer, Wooley and Longshot. It’s a matter of principle now. There’s also the fact that he cannot allow the men to see him backtrack after he threatened them so thoroughly – he has an image to defend after all.

At some point, General Kenobi decides to eat one or two more spoonfuls of his soup – an awful decision in Cody’s opinion because that soup has now turned into duracrete judging by the way Kenobi has to really dig the spoon in. Soon, Kenobi pushes the bowl away and stands up, Cody following close behind.

They make their way toward the crew’s quarters, both of them ready for their shift to end.

While in the turbolift taking them to their floor, General Kenobi turns toward Cody.

“I have received new orders from the Jedi High Council,” he begins. “We need to go to Saleucami to assist a Twi’lek colony taken by assault by Separatists forces.”

Cody nods, “I received a debrief earlier but I only took a rapid look at it.” He pauses briefly. “It seems the orders suggest to storm the Separatist forces and take advantage of the surprise factor, instead of carefully planning our attack.”

The turbolift stops at their floor and the two leave it, making an immediate right to get to their quarters. As the two highest-ranking officers aboard The Negotiator, their quarters are located in a separate hallway where only a few other officers reside.

“Yes, I noticed that too,” the General says, continuing their conversation. “We have to thank General Krell for that. His recent campaigns have proved to be quick and successful and the Senate no doubt wants a repeat of that. I suspect the Jedi High Council has been strongly advised to pass on that information to us.”

Cody has no doubt that is exactly what happened. Usually, the Jedi High Council limited itself to passing on any and all available information to the officers they charged with a specific mission, leaving it to them to plan what the best approach to said mission would be, considering all the circumstances. Whenever the Council took the time to actually suggest a course of action, it meant the Senate was behind that suggestion, usually because of some political reason they didn’t feel the need to pass on to the GAR.

“I am sure that is the case, sir.” He concurs, swallowing down the words he really wants to say. “I am sure General Krell will bring many more successes to the Republic as soon as the new batches of shinies will arrive to bolster his Battalion.”

Cody glances at Kenobi at his side and catches the side-eyed glance his General is throwing his way. There is a steely glint in Kenobi’s blue-gray eyes. Cody understands. The General has read the reports on General Krell’s missions, no doubt noticing the appalling number of losses on the GAR’s side.

Commander Cody stops in front of the door to his quarters, General Kenobi stopping right beside him.

“Well, Commander,” he says, a scheming smile curving his lips. “I am sure you and I will find a suitable way of completing this mission in a quick and efficient way, limiting our losses to the minimum possible. After all, we wouldn’t want to delay General Krell’s order by having to contact Tipoca City.”

General Kenobi’s words are both a relief and a painful reminder of how the clones are treated in the GAR. By the grim set of his lips, Cody knows that having to say those words aloud hurt the General just as much as they hurt Cody.

“What will the Council say, sir?”

“The Council understands how busy we are, Commander,” Kenobi doesn’t miss a beat, having already decided they would do things their own way, Senate be damned. “They know we cannot possibly read all the memos they send us, and besides they know we have the Republic’s best interest at heart and would never do anything to jeopardize the mission.”

They share a small smile, always happy to know they are on the same page when it comes to watching their men’s backs.

“Goodnight, Commander,” General Kenobi’s voice is softer than it was before as he turns to get to his quarters at the end of the hallway and on the opposite side of Cody’s.

“Sir,” Cody rapidly salutes.

He takes a moment to watch as his General disappears inside his quarters before turning and entering his own.

He disrobes quickly, donning the set of light gray sleeping clothes General Kenobi had requested to be made at the start of the war, when he’d discovered the Kaminoans had only equipped the troops with their armors and their blacks.

As he lies down to sleep, Cody’s eyes are drawn to Boil’s datapad resting on top of his bedside table. He frowns and reaches out to grab it, the screen lighting up when he lightly taps on it.

The General said he was okay with the poll, so Cody figures there’s no harm done in looking a bit more into it and read on all the categories the men have created for the _Jetiise_.

Right?

Right.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cody almost dies of embarrassment. Thankfully he has brothers more than willing to push him in the right direction. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter took on a life of its own and ended up being almost 2000 words longer than it should have been. So yeah, that's gonna happen. Chapters' length may vary!
> 
> There is some Mando'a in this chapter so you'll find the translations at the end. There's also a quote from Scrubs, if you can spot it. Why you ask? Because I love Scrubs and I love my boys. Plus I couldn't pass up the opportunity.
> 
> Thank you to all who took the time to read this little experiment of mine! You're all amazing!

In this exact moment, Cody knows two things for certain.

One: he is going to kill Boil.

Two: he has never been more grateful for the fact that his bucket hides the totality of his face from others. And by others, he means General Kenobi.

Standing in the LAAT/i with General Kenobi, Waxer, Boil, Longshot, Wooley and their resident shiny Singer, Cody is starting to think that he will not see the end of this war. It’s not that he thinks he’s going to be killed during the mission or that he’s going to make a mistake and get sent to Kamino to be decommissioned. He knows he’s an excellent soldier, more than capable of getting things done without getting killed in the process – after all, one did not get recommended to train with Alpha-17 and then get assigned to General Kenobi to be his second in command of the whole Third System Army, if he didn’t know what he was doing. His _vode_ would probably say that he likes to brag, but Cody prefers to define himself as a realist.

So no, he doesn’t fear dying during a mission.

What he does fear – and this is both a recent fear and the reason he is going to kill Boil – is dying from the sheer sexual frustration born out of dealing with General Kenobi After The Poll.

The problem is that he cannot even put the blame solely on Boil. Cody should have known that reading the datapad with all the categories of the Most Desirable Jedi General in the GAR poll would turn out to be a very bad idea. In the course of his brief life, Cody has learned that he can never trust the decisions he makes when he’s too tired to think straight. The recent mishap with their rations order shows exactly that. General Kenobi might have been the one to file the requisition order on no more than two hours of sleep in three days, but Cody had been the one to second that order with only one hour of sleep more than his General.

“Can you stop that?”

Cody looks to his right where Boil and Waxer are sitting next to each other. Boil is checking his blaster, getting ready for the mission they’re about to embark on, while Waxer doesn’t seem to be able to sit still for more than two seconds. Cody frowns. Waxer is no shiny so he shouldn’t be nervous about the mission.

Waxer’s helmet turns to Boil. “I can’t help it. It’s a Twi’lek colony.” There’s excitement in his voice. “Maybe, after the mission, I can try my Twileki with them.”

“Twileki?” Boil sounds suspicious.

“Yeah, General Kenobi has been giving me lessons, so when I see Numa again, I’ll be able to speak with her this time.”

It’s impossible to know what Boil’s expression is under his helmet, but Cody bets he has an eyebrow up in skepticism.

“You really think you’re gonna meet her again?”

Waxer doesn’t answer immediately, helmet dipping in a way that lets Cody know he’s staring at the floor as he clasps his hands between his legs. “The war’s gonna end one day, Boil.”

Boil’s hands freeze for a moment before going back to checking his blaster. “Yeah, I guess.”

Cody looks away.

The topic of when the war is going to end is a sobering one whenever it comes up. Mostly, none of them has any idea what the end of the war could bring or even what it looks like. They’ve been bred for war and Cody is not sure what they would do with peace, even though that is their ultimate objective. He’s glad, though, that Waxer seems to have found something to look forward to – it makes Cody think that all of them could find something worth living for when this part of their lives comes to an end.

The Commander looks around trying to find something that will distract him from the sullen mood that seems to have taken a hold of him.

On his left and across from him, Longshot and Wooley are sitting in silence, heads tipped back to rest against the side of LAAT/i. Cody is not too worried about their silence, he knows those two like to immediately get into a quiet mood before the start of a mission – it helps to keep them focused.

A little more to the left, in the corner of the ship, Cody spots General Kenobi sitting next to Singer. The shiny seems to have found the courage to ask the General if he can take a look at his lightsaber, hands moving reverently over the weapon under Kenobi’s attentive eyes. A Jedi’s lightsaber isn’t just a weapon, Cody knows that and he has heard the General say so to Skywalker more than once, so he understands why the General won’t take his eyes off the shiny. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Singer, it’s just that his lightsaber is that important to him.

Cody can’t help but have mixed feelings about the scene he’s witnessing. On one hand, he feels inordinately pleased by the fact that whenever he ends up with General Kenobi’s lightsaber clipped to his belt, the General doesn’t seem the least bit worried about that. It’s exhilarating to know that Kenobi trusts him so much with something so important to him.

On the other hand, he feels...troubled by the way Singer’s fingers trace the hard lines of General Kenobi’s lightsaber. He can’t help but feel that what’s happening is inappropriate. There’s something that strikes him as obscene in the way the shiny’s fingers move on the metal. No one but him should have the privilege of holding such an essential part of General Kenobi in his hands. He knows, he _knows_ , that Kenobi is letting the shiny touch his lightsaber because the man loves his troops and he wants them to know that they matter to him, but Cody can’t help but feel...he doesn’t even know what he feels but it makes his chest tighten uncomfortably and he has to look away.

Cody shifts in his seat and scoffs at himself. This is just another one of the problems that he’s started to face since the moment he read that blasted poll.

If there’s one thing the poll revealed to him – besides the fact that, apparently, General Windu shines his head – is that the entirety of the Third System Army lusts after his General, and Cody really doesn’t know what to think about that.

Whoever was responsible for the creation of the poll had done a really thorough job, so much so that Cody was even grudgingly impressed. For every category there was a comment section where everyone could motivate their vote and then create a thread where others could respond to that motivation. Scrolling through those comments had made Cody realize that he really was the only one to blame for the mess he found himself in. Because it was one thing to read about the fact that nine clones out of ten had voted for Kenobi’s ass as the most perfect one among the Jedi Generals, and another one entirely to read the fifty-page-long essay (Cody is going to find the trooper who posted that; no one will be allowed to moan about a miserable two-page-long mission report after that stunt) that someone posted on said ass.

Even worse was the fact that he could not stop himself from reading everything the men had to say about Kenobi.

Cody had spent the entire night after he’d discovered the poll, just scrolling through the comment sections feeling equal parts proud of the way his General seemed to win almost every category effortlessly, and horrified by the vivid images provided by some of the comments.

As he kept on reading, Cody had started to guess who was writing what (the _vode_ had had the foresight to make the comments anonymous). It was amusingly simple to recognize what was written by a shiny, as it was an innocent comment along the lines of ‘The General has a really lovely voice that spreads calm all around him’ or ‘His hair is really red and pretty and when the sun shines just right on it, it looks like he’s on fire’. Cody remembers the way all of them had sort of walked on egg-shells the first few weeks after being assigned to their General, all of them trying to figure out what was permitted and what wasn’t. Kenobi had been quick to let them know he intended to treat them like men, not flesh-droids, and build a trusting relationship with the troops. Yes, Cody understands why the shinies chose to keep their comments tame.

Which was why it was just as easy to figure out who was a veteran in the comments and, more specifically, who was a member of the 212th  – the Battalion that spent more time with General Kenobi. From there, it didn’t take much to pinpoint the troopers part of Ghost Company, hence why Cody knew he was going to kill Boil.

Because Boil had made Cody aware of _things_.

Cody is honest enough with himself to admit that yes, General Kenobi is an attractive man. The Commander remembers the first time he caught a glimpse of him, high above the mess hall on Kamino. He remembers catching a glimpse of red hair and feeling something shift inside of him. The only red he’d seen up to that moment, was the burgundy red of their clothes or the violent red of their blood during training accidents. The _Jetii_ ’s red was different, and Cody couldn’t figure out why for the life of him. But it was too late and something had changed, that first glimpse of something so different, something from outside Kamino, had lit up Cody.

And then he met General Kenobi and he saw red, and blue, and gray, and soft-looking cream tunics and heavy brown robes and everything kept on changing, evolving. Cody learned that the world outside Kamino was so different to what he’d been used to, that sometimes he felt dizzy.

As the war keeps on going on, Cody visits many worlds and sees many different alien species but somehow, General Kenobi remains the most interesting sentient he’s ever laid eyes on.

Cody had figured out pretty early that he’s attracted to men. He remembers being eight years old and looking at one of his instructors – one of the _Cuy’val Dar_ the Template had summoned to Kamino to train the first batches of clones – and thinking he really wanted to press his lips to the man’s throat, run his hands over the corded muscles of his arms. From then on, he had taken the time to learn what he liked and didn’t like in men. He learned that many of his _vode_ shared his same attraction to members of the same sex and that his brother Bly was instead attracted to women. He remembers looking at the female members of the _Cuy’val Dar_ to see if he too felt attracted to them, and thinking that they looked soft and pretty in a way that didn’t feel attractive to him – he had the sensation he would break them if he did to them what he wanted to do to his favorite instructor. He knew it was a ridiculous thought – one of the female instructors barely reached his sternum and yet wiped the floor with him during hand to hand combat training – but he shrugged his shoulders and figured it was just the way things were.

So yes, meeting General Kenobi had only reinforced his attraction to men.

The thing is, Cody considers himself too professional to ever really think about his General in _those_ terms. He has to work with the man, go into battle with him, he can’t risk being distracted during a crucial moment and end up being killed – or get his men killed – because he’d been too busy looking at his General vaulting over the droids’ heads and slicing them up.

It doesn’t mean that the random, stray thought doesn’t cross his mind every now and then. After all, Cody’s eyes work just fine, and he has a prime position to witness some of the most amazing things Kenobi does on a regular basis.

But Cody knows his duty, and so has worked hard and tirelessly to banish those thoughts from his mind, and focus on what’s really important – his job as Kenobi’s Commander.

Until Boil had to come and destroy all those months of focused willpower and open the floodgates of Cody’s imagination. At that point, the week-long journey to reach Saleucami had become a nightmare.

The first day After The Poll, Cody hadn’t been able to look Kenobi in the eye without remembering what his _vode_ had written about the man.

_...his eyes are amazing, blue or gray or kriff knows what color, I bet they’re even more impressive with pupils blown out in arousal…_

_...I want to sink my fingers in his hair and just ravage him…_

_...I bet he tastes amazing. No way one can look like that and not taste like karking nectar…_

Cody had felt mortified. He’d spent that day avoiding the General, trying to think of anything but the poll, terrified out of his mind that Kenobi could somehow read his mind and hear the way his Commander couldn’t stop thinking about all the many different things his men ( _and you, you hypocrite_ ) wanted to do to him. General Kenobi had told him he couldn’t read minds unless one was thinking really intensely about something to the point of projecting it around. Cody had been thinking pretty hard about General Kenobi.

The situation only kept getting worse with each passing day.

Cody had always paid attention to the many different quirks that made General Kenobi who he was. Part of it was, admittedly, due to his attraction to the Jedi, and the fact that Kenobi was a naturally charming person. A much larger part of it was due to the training the _Kaminii_ _se_ and the Template had put him through. Hundreds upon hundreds of hours spent in simulations, of which the sole objective had been that of retaining the highest possible number of details on anything and everything; weapons, droids, environments, crafts, ships, maps. All following the ancient principle of knowing your enemy and knowing yourself, in this case on a much more practical and physical way.

Wasn’t that training turning on him know…

Innocent little details Cody had noticed and stowed away in a corner of his mind, took on a whole different meaning once he started looking at them under a different light After the Poll.

Now, when his General stroked his beard, Cody couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel under his fingers, if it would be soft or rough to the touch. And, oh how would it feel under his lips?

Now, when his General walked next to him, Cody found himself thinking that he liked the way the other man had to tilt his head down a bit to look him in the eye. He relished in the slight height difference between them, and shivered in knowing that if he carded his fingers through his General’s hair and made him dip his chin down a bit, their lips would be at the perfect height to steal a kiss.

Now, when his General leaned on the holo-table to look at maps as the two of them discussed plans, Cody couldn’t stop his eyes from hungrily drinking in the strip of pale skin Kenobi bared to him, the v-neck created by his under-tunic parting just enough to tempt the Commander with a light dusting of reddish hair.

And when his General sat down, Cody was now always reminded of why what he was going through was Boil’s fault, because no one in the entire Third System Army lacked any sense of tact and subtlety quite like Boil. Cody seriously doubted the man even knew what those words meant.

 _...is no one going to talk about the way the man sits? Am I the only one wondering why a man who takes ten minutes to pour tea because he has to follow all the proper rituals, sits with his legs spread like_ that _? I’m telling you,_ vode _, the man is packing something down there…_

Cody had never noticed that. Or, well, he’d noticed but had never thought anything of it. General Kenobi had to spend countless hours chatting up politicians, dignitaries, admirals, the Jedi High Council and the Chancellor himself, absolving his duties as the Republic’s famous Negotiator, so Cody figured he could be excused if he wanted to sit comfortably in whatever manner pleased him most.

Now, the Commander dreaded being right in front of the General when he sat down. The first time it happened After The Poll, Cody’s mind just whitened out. He came back to himself only because General Kenobi had been calling his name repeatedly. Absolutely mortifying.

Without his helmet, Cody could steel himself enough to behave like a normal person with General Kenobi, looking him in the eye – sometimes loosing himself in that blue-gray, but that was the lesser evil in his opinion – and holding proper conversation. With his helmet on, however, his eyes could wander over every inch of his General’s body, doing nothing but escalate what Cody now knew intimately to be sheer sexual frustration.

Taking care of his needs had never been a problem for the Commander. Surrounded by thousands of men who looked exactly like him who he considered his _vode_ , he had developed the habit of recalling to mind the familiar faces of his instructors on Kamino or, sometimes, a pretty face seen here and there on the rare days of leave he had. Once or twice, General Kenobi popped-up, but Cody did his best to banish the man from his thoughts whenever he had to masturbate.

That wasn’t possible anymore.

He wasn’t embarrassed by the fact that General Kenobi had become the star of all his fantasies while he had his hand wrapped around himself. After all, he wasn't doing anything wrong. Though, he did feel a bit unsettled after. One, because he had to wonder how many of his brothers thought about Kenobi while masturbating – and judging by what they had written, Cody was fairly sure a lot of them thought about the man. Two, because while the release of so much sexual tension left him feeling more grounded, it also ramped up pretty quickly around General Kenobi if he wasn’t careful.

It’s safe to say, Cody had never been more grateful for the previously overlooked privilege of having a fresher in his private quarters, courtesy of his rank.

The sound of footsteps coming closer, wrenches Cody out of his memories. He looks to the left and notices General Kenobi approaching him, lightsaber swaying gently from its place at his hip. A quick glance behind the General and Cody wants to sigh – Singer is gazing at Kenobi with eyes that reveal that another shiny has been lost to the Jedi’s charm. Cody shakes his head – he owes ten credits to Waxer.

“Commander,” General Kenobi addresses him, taking a seat across from him.

Cody opens his mouth to return the acknowledgment and promptly chokes as the Jedi sprawls in front of him.

“Is everything alright?” Kenobi frowns at him.

“Yes, sir. Just remembered I’m due for a routine check-up with Bones.” The lie comes easily and he can only thank his training for it, though he never imagined he’d be lying to preserve his dignity in front of his General.

Kenobi hisses through his teeth, a sympathetic light appearing in his eyes. “My condolences, Commander. Should you require it I would be happy to provide you with a timely mission to avoid visiting Bones.”

Cody shakes his head. “No need, General. Better to get on with it, the sooner the better.” He’s touched by Kenobi’s quick offer of assistance – Stars know the two of them have forged an alliance out of avoiding the sickbay – but there’s no need to encourage any snooping around. “What do you make of the shiny, sir?”

Kenobi’s lips turn up underneath his beard. “Singer seems like a fine addition to our Battalion. He’s a very enterprising young man, he only stumbled once in asking if he could see my lightsaber.”

Cody studiously ignores the slight tightening in his chest at the mention of the scene he’d been witness to, focusing instead on the gratefulness he feels for the other man. By this point, he knows that General Kenobi sees each clone as sentient as any other nat-born he’s ever met, but it never hurts to hear him reaffirm how much the Jedi cares for them. To anyone else, what the General said might sound inconsequential, but Cody doesn’t miss how the Jedi already remembers the shiny’s name, nor the genuine smile curving his lips as he speaks of him.

“A bit jumpy, though,” Cody comments, remembering the story behind the shiny’s name.

General Kenobi shrugs his shoulders, “He will get used to it and if not, we can find him a position on the _Negotiator_ as a non-combatant. I may be wrong, but he seems to have a penchant for flying and astro-mechanics.”

They laps into a comfortable silence. Cody checks the chrono on his HUD and quickly calculates that they should be getting pretty close to their landing zone. His eyes focus back on his General.

“We’re getting close, sir.”

Kenobi nods. “We should be going over the mission details once more, then. Just to be on the safe side.”

“Understood.” Cody stands up, ready to call everyone to him so they can do as their General commanded.

He’s stopped from calling his brothers by Kenobi, who stood up with him. The General’s slim fingers circle his wrist, making his heart jump into his throat. “Sir?” he murmurs, uncertain.

“Before I forget, I would like to speak with you, Commander.” The General’s eyes find his unerringly through the black of his visor. “I was hoping to find some time during this flight, but Singer took more time with the lightsaber than I realized. I understand that now it is not the right time, so maybe we could speak after the mission, yes?”

“Of course, General,” Cody answers automatically, the discipline instilled in him from the day he was decanted comes to his aid and lets him speak without needing to think. “May I ask what you need to discuss?” He seriously hopes the General didn’t pick up any of his thoughts from the past week.

The General’s hand leaves his wrist and Cody immediately misses the warmth that he’d managed to feel even through his armor.

“You don’t need to worry, Commander.” Kenobi smiles at him. “It’s nothing terrible, just a little something I thought about these last few days.”

Well, that doesn’t sound reassuring.

As the General said, though, now isn’t the time to start this discussion so Cody nods his understanding and calls his brothers.

The _vode_ all stand in a circle in the middle of the LAAT/i as General Kenobi explains what their mission is one last time. The Jedi takes out a holo-projector from one of the pockets of his tunic and holds it up in front of him. As it lights up, a map of the cave system they’re going to infiltrate appears and they all lean forward to better see it.

The mission is fairly easy, all things considered.

The CIS has invaded a Twi'lek settlement on Saleucami, taking more than a hundred hostages, among them a no small number of children. Since the Twi'lek in question formed an agricultural settlement – thus having nothing of value that could interest the CIS – it is believed that the Seppies have every intention of turning the colonists into slaves, much like they intended to do on Ryloth. To that end, the Separatists have holed up in a system of natural caves near the Twi'lek colony as they wait for proper transportation to come pick them up. In the mean-time, recent suspicious activity around other colonies on Saleucami, seems to indicate the intention on the CIS part to attack other colonies.

To deal with the situation, Cody and the General had agreed on a simple but quite effective plan.

General Kenobi would take two troopers with him – Wooley and Longshot – and contact the CIS command with the intention of negotiating with them the release of the Twi'lek prisoners as official Negotiator for the Republic. While technically a neutral system, Saleucami did recognize the Republic’s authority and thus had formally requested its help.

While all the attention focused on the General, Cody would take Boil, Waxer and Singer and infiltrate the caves trough an entry point located in a less-known area of the Twi'lek colony. Although there was not much information on the CIS forces, both the General and Cody felt it was safe to assume the enemy numbers to be small – the attack had been on a single colony, not the whole planet, after all.

Much of the plan rested on General Kenobi’s ability to talk circles around the CIS command, keeping their attention on him instead of his troopers. Easy.

“Is everything clear?” Kenobi looks at all of them.

“Sir, yes, sir!” All the troopers answer at once.

General Kenobi shuts down the holo-projector and puts it back in his pocket. He turns his eyes on them and looks at each and every one of them through their dark visors. They stand at attention, recognizing the seriousness that always pervades their General before any mission.

“If at all possible, I would like some of the enemies to be taken alive. I do not like the way they infiltrated Saleucami trying to not be detected by us. They are planning something and I want to know what.” The men nod at his words. Kenobi is not finished. “That being said, I do not want for you to put your lives needlessly at risk just to capture the enemy. I want to see you all alive and in one piece at the end of this mission.” Cody is sure he’s not imagining the way the General’s eyes seem to linger on him for a long moment. “ _Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur_ ,” he says, a dangerous smile curving his lips.

“ _Oya!_ ” Boil growls as he thumps his blaster against the side of his leg.

Cody seconds that sentiment feeling his lips form a smile that’s all teeth in its ferociousness, a smile he knows his _vode_ are reciprocating. He can’t explain the rush of adrenaline before any mission. Maybe it’s all the Template’s DNA or the _Mando’ad_ in him, but there’s something pure and tremendously simple about going into battle. He hates that the war is taking so many of his brothers’ lives, but he can’t lie and say that a part of him doesn’t relish in fighting against the droids, doesn’t cheer at every blaster shot finding its target.

All of that is fueled by the General speaking to them in _Mando’a_. Hearing the way that posh Coruscanti accent curls around the words of his people’s language in a pronunciation that would have made the Template reluctantly impressed, does things to Cody he cannot allow himself to dwell on. Not now.

Singer shuffles closer to them as General Kenobi moves to stand by the doors of the LAAT/i. His stance is ready for battle even though he only has to start fake negotiating with the enemy, and Cody knows he’s slipping in a light battle meditation to be ready for anything.

“Is he always like this?” The shiny asks in a murmur, bucket still turned toward the General.

“Who? The General?” Waxer asks as he and Boil check each other’s armor.

Singer nods. “He seemed worried...for us.” He says it like he’s not sure he can believe it.

Longshot barks a laugh and hoists up his blaster rifle. “Better get used to it, shiny. The General doesn’t like it when we get ourselves killed. I swear if he could, he would use that Force of his to bring us back to life and then kill us himself for our stupidity sometimes.”

Wooley snickers under his breath and turns to look at Singer who seems still a little bit unsure. “Listen well, kid. The General cares about us and we care about him, right Commander?”

Cody looks his brother in the bucket. “ _Cuun Jetii_ ,” he states.

“ _Cuun Jetii_ ”, echo his brothers.

Cody turns toward Singer, “Remember your training, kid. It’s a simple mission, there’s no need to get yourself killed. Stay close to me and your _vode_ and nothing bad will happen. You wouldn’t want to make the General sad.” It’s a low blow but Cody is not above that sort of things when it comes to making sure his brothers don’t die on him.

Singer is appropriately offended. “I would never want that!”

“Good.”

As expected, the mission reveals itself to be extremely simple. The General, Longshot and Wooley do an amazing job of distracting the CIS command by putting on a performance that will soon make its way through every _vod_ in the 212  th  (courtesy of the video feed from Longshot’s HUD). From a corner of his own HUD, Cody is capable of keeping an eye on his General to make sure things go as planned at least once in their life. He snorts when Kenobi manages to convince two B-1 Battle Droids to sit down with him for a cup of tea he procured from who knows where.

As they crawl through meters of dark tunnels (with only Boil’s whining about the fact he’ll have to repaint his armor after this mission as company), Cody thinks that he must have the weirdest Jedi in all the GAR. He tries to imagine General Windu or General Skywalker doing what Kenobi does on a daily basis, and he just can’t picture it.

They find little resistance once they get to the wider caves where the CIS has gathered their hostages. Cody and his General had been right in their estimation of the enemy forces. There were only B-1 Battle Droids keeping guard on their prisoners, one or two droidekas to support them.

Singer behaves well and Cody feels himself relax as he watches the shiny move with confidence. The nervousness that got him his name is nowhere to be seen, leaving Cody to wonder what is it that really make him nervous.

He sidles up to the rookie as Singer deactivates two droids, watching them fold themselves with an amused smile.

“They’re kind of cute, aren’t they Commander?” He asks, hauling up the two droids like they weigh nothing. “When they’re not trying to kill us, of course.”

The Commander shakes his head and motions for the shiny to follow after him as they leave the caves to rejoin the General. Waxer and Boil follow behind them, leading the now freed Twi’lek. A child is wrapped around Boil’s leg while Waxer stutters his way through a conversation in Twileki with him. Helmet off, Boil frowns at the little kid and shakes his leg to try and free himself, but the kid laughs in his face.

Outside the caves, General Kenobi is standing between Longshot and Wooley, the latter holding a Tactical Droid’s head in his hands. A little bit to the side, Cody notices the two B-1s in pieces on the ground, the clean lines bisecting them a clear indicator of what (or who) happened to them.

“I gather they didn’t like the tea?” Cody asks as they stop in front of the General.

Kenobi sighs dejectedly before smiling at him. “I’m afraid it was rather bad for their circuits, Commander.”

“You can try again with these two, General!” Singer says enthusiastically, dropping the two folded-up droids at Kenobi’s feet.

Cody frowns at him. He eyes the shiny behind the cover of his helmet and thinks that Singer is a little too eager to please the General.

Kenobi laughs out loud, “I would if I thought the result would be different.” He bends over and traces the yellow markings on one of the droids, “I do hope, however, that we will manage to find something in their data that will help us understand the reason for this sudden incursion.”

“I will have the droids delivered to Wires immediately, General.” Cody turns to Singer, “Take the two droids and load them up. Wooley, Longshot, you go with him. We will join you as soon as we manage to extract Waxer and Boil from their new friends.”

The three clones snap at attention and, gathered the droids, march off in the direction of their LAAT/i. Cody watches them leave and finally allows himself to feel the relief at their mission’s success.

“How did Singer behave during his first mission?” His General’s soft voice demands Cody’s attention.

“He did good, sir. Focused, alert, ready to act and not afraid to get his hands dirty.” There’s pride in his voice and the Commander doesn’t bother to hide it. “He was the one who captured the two droids.”

“Has he earned his colors then?”

Cody smiles behind his helmet. “I daresay he has, sir. He will have to wait, though. We have a shortage of gold paint, at the moment. As soon as we can get our hands on some, we’ll get him a proper armor.”

General Kenobi folds his arms on his chest, “That’s what I was hoping to talk to you about.”

“Sir?”

“Before the start of the mission.” General Kenobi motions with his head and Cody falls into step beside him, not before checking where Waxer and Boil are. The two have managed to free themselves from the Twi’lek, Waxer waving as he walks away with his brother. A dispatch of troopers has already been called to help the colonists get back to their settlement.

Cody focuses back on his General. “You wanted to talk about paint?”

General Kenobi huffs a laugh and brushes his shoulder against his. Cody’s breath hitches at the light contact.

“No, I was hoping to discuss a possible leave period for the troops, Commander.”

Cody tilts his head to the side. “You think that is likely in the future for us, sir?” At the rhythm they kept getting their new orders, Cody had thought leave to be nothing more than a mirage for all of them. The 212th  is the leading Attack Battalion of the Third System Army, thus getting the dubious honor of always being the first to attack and the last to retreat.

Kenobi strokes his beard pensively. “I would have to call in one or two favors but I think I could secure us a few days on Coruscant.”

“Sir, you don’t need to pull strings for us. We will be fine even if we have to wait to rest.” He doesn’t want the General to sacrifice favors that could really come in handy in the future, just so they can all rest. Cody’s sure the Battalion can keep on going a little bit further before reaching the limit.

General Kenobi throws a furtive glance at him and immediately Cody hears alarm bells ring in his head. The General is never afraid to look him in the eye.

“Is there another reason behind your decision, sir?” The Commander asks tentatively. A sudden, terrible thought comes to his mind. “Are you unwell?” The thought of having failed his General in such a way is unbearable.

Kenobi’s quick to reassure him, a warm hand finding its way on Cody’s forearm. “No, Cody, no. I’m not doing this for myself.” He looks at Waxer and Boil behind them. They’re close but not close enough to hear what they’re saying. General Kenobi lowers his voice anyway. “I’m doing this for you.”

The alarm bells turn into the haunting sirens of the _Negotiator_ during an attack from the Separatists.

“I’m not sure I’m following you, sir.” Cody tries for nonchalance.

Kenobi keeps on walking with calm, measured steps, though Cody sees the tip of his ears reddening. “I am sorry if I am overstepping the boundaries here, but after this past week I feel it would be remiss of me to say nothing.” He licks his lips before going on. “I have noticed some mounting...tension in you in the last few days, and I feel I understand the reason behind it.”

Cody shuts his eyes and swallows a groan. He sincerely hopes he’s misunderstanding what his General is talking about, otherwise his _vode_ will soon have to add his name to the daily Remembrance.

“Sir…” He tries to interject.

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Commander.” General Kenobi seems to have regained his footing, any awkwardness he might have felt at the beginning all but forgotten. “It’s a perfectly normal reaction for a grown and healthy man such as yourself, and if it makes it any better I know for certain you’re not the only trooper going through this. I have sensed many of your brothers’ frustration as well and it is very distracting, so you see I am doing it as much for you as for myself, really.”

Any other time Cody might have appreciated the attempt at humor, but right now he can only wonder whether there’s any way for him to contact General Grievous and kindly ask him if he can get run through by one of his lightsabers.

Kenobi keeps on talking, oblivious to the fact that Cody is praying for death right beside him. “I am sorry I didn’t notice the problem sooner but now that I think about it, in all our previous missions we have had the time for a quick stop planetside leaving the men with time to, I suppose, tend to their needs. For the last few months, however, we haven’t had the time to stop for a moment and I did not think to ask for leave. I am deeply sorry, Commander.”

Cody swallows heavily. “Sir, there’s really no need for you to concern yourself with these things.”

“I take my duty as your General very seriously.” The Commander can see that his General has no intention of giving up. “Part of my duties is to make sure that all of my troopers are in top condition. This is just one of the needs you all have and I feel it should not be ignored. The happier and the more relaxed you are, the better you’ll fight and so the less casualties we’ll have.”

Cody isn’t sure that’s how things work but he has no idea how to dissuade the General. He knows only that this conversation is utterly mortifying, and he really doesn’t want to be the one explaining that all of this leads back to the absurd poll the General himself had dismissed as a silly pastime for the troops. Indeed, Kenobi had been proud of himself over the result of the poll.

“You can’t just turn the ship around and get us back to Coruscant because the men are feeling frisky, General.” Cody’s starting to feel desperate.

“I can and I will, Commander. Besides, I’m sure everyone will be glad to have some time off. We’ve all been constantly fighting for months on end, we are due some relaxation.” He smiles sheepishly at Cody. “I admit that I am myself looking forward to going back to the Temple.”

His General’s soft admission is the perfect excuse to pretend the conversation they’re having is completely normal and innocent. Cody sometimes forgets that, unlike him and his _vode_ , other people in the galaxy feel homesick. Kamino is the place where they’ve been decanted, but none of them has ever considered it home. It dawns on him that even though Kenobi hasn’t been born on Coruscant, the Temple is indeed his home – the home of all the Jedi.

He looks at his General and realizes that, while he is being truthful in his desire to go back home after a long time, Kenobi is also offering him a reason to go back to Coruscant that will make it easier for Cody to accept.

“If you’re sure, General.” He gives up, there’s really no point in protesting.

The way Kenobi smiles at him rivals the sun in its brightness. “I am sure. Maybe I’ll even manage to get Anakin and the 501st  to join us.”

With those last words, General Kenobi walks off toward the LAAT/i where Wooley and Longshot are waiting for them while Singer secures the droids for transport. Cody sighs and trails behind his General in silence.

“I think you should slow down, _vod_.”

“I think you should mind your business, _Rex’ika_.”

79’s is, as usual, packed full of brothers. The 212th  and the 501st  make up almost half of the people currently drinking and dancing in the establishment. Cody doesn’t even want to think about the mess he’ll likely have to solve the next day – nothing good ever comes from having Boil, Fives, Longshot and Hardcase, all in the same room. The only positive note is that Cody is sure that Kix and Bones are somewhere in the bar, their silent but terrifying presence providing a buffer of sort against the madness that would otherwise reign supreme.

No matter, Cody doesn’t have the time to worry about his brothers. He’s a man on a mission tonight, and nothing, _nothing_ , will keep him from accomplishing it.

Cody throws back a full glass of Ne’tra gal, studiously ignoring Rex’s stare. His _vod’ika_ seems determined to keep him from getting drunk out of his mind, which really only shows that Cody has every right to demote Rex from favorite little brother to second-favorite little brother. Ah, that’ll show him.

He signals the bartender for another glass and then slumps forward on the table he’s occupied with Rex for the night. He’s still depressingly sober. Sort of.

“Come on, _vod_. It can’t be that bad.” Rex tries again to cheer up his brother.

A muffled string of words comes from Cody, who keeps his head buried in his arms, forehead pressed against the cool surface of the table.

“I can’t hear you like that.”

Cody turns his head to look at Rex. “It’s worse than bad. It’s a _karking_ disaster.”

“Cody…”

“My General has arranged a three-day leave for me, and yes it is for _me,_ I don’t care how he puts it, because he thinks I’m horny!” He slams his head back down.

The sound of glasses sliding over the surface of the table signals the arrival of their next round of alcohol. Cody lifts his head and immediately wishes he hadn’t.

Fives smiles down at him sliding into the booth, “I hear we’re missing on a great conversation here.” Boil and Echo join their brother in the booth.

With five of them seated at the same table, Cody now finds himself squished between Rex and Echo. Fives pushes a glass of Ne’tra gal at him and Cody starts drinking it immediately, not wasting a second. Fives watches the Commander with the sort of glee reserved for truly unexpected, yet incredibly good moments. Boil raises an eyebrow and gazes at him with a disturbing knowing glint in his eyes.

“Is this about the leave for horniness the General gave us?” At this point in their life, none of them are surprised by the bluntness displayed by Boil on a daily basis.

Cody still chokes on his drink, and Fives still guffaws slamming his hand on the table. Echo and Rex exchange a quick glance, both of them wishing they could be anywhere else in the Galaxy right now.

“So it is true!” Fives exclaims. “I thought it was some weird rumor but it is actually the truth! Oh, I can’t believe it.”

Echo shifts in his seat, eyeing with worry the speed at which the Commander is chugging down his drink. They all have accelerated metabolisms that make getting drunk harder than it is for regular humanoid species, but it can’t be healthy to drink that fast.

“I’m sure things aren’t that bad,” he tries to cheer up his older brother.

Boil snorts, “Oh, they’re bad. Believe me.”

Cody slams down the now empty glass and points an accusing finger at the other man. “This is all your fault, Boil! You and that _karking_ poll!”

Boil raises his hands in a defensive gesture, not even trying to deny the accusation. Rex sighs besides Cody. The second he’d heard about the poll, he’d known something bad was bound to happen. Granted, he didn’t think that it would be his _ori’vod_ going into a panic over how pretty General Kenobi is (Cody’s words not his). He wonders how Cody would react if he knew that Rex himself has voted for Kenobi on most categories. Maybe it would be better to keep that for himself.

“I can’t even look him in the eyes anymore.”

Rex shifts uncomfortably at the hint of a whimper in Cody’s voice. There's something disturbing in witnessing his usually stoic, stalwart brother break down in such a way over a man.

“After that training exercise, I would have trouble looking him in the eyes too, _vod_. You’re lucky you were wearing armor,” Boil mutters into his drink. Beside him, Fives lights up at the prospect of some much needed juicy gossip to spread to his batchmates in the 501st.

“What training exercise?” he asks.

Rex tries to intervene to salvage what remains of Cody’s dignity at this point, but his brother seems determined to dig his own grave. Rex loves his brother but Cody can be such a glutton for punishment sometimes.

“It was a hand to hand combat training session, perfectly standard. The General asked if I could spar with him because he felt he was getting rusty, too used to using the Force in combat. I said yes, what else was I supposed to do?” He looks to his brothers as if asking them to validate his poor life choices. They all nod in agreement with him – their _Jetiise_ treat them like men, but no clone would dare refuse their Generals anything, the rare times they ask. “It started normal but then...I don’t know what happened. One moment I was blocking a punch, the next he had me pinned to the floor, straddling my hips.” Cody leans forward, hands framing his face as he stares blankly at the table. “I got hard so fast I thought I’d faint,” he says in a mortified, breathless, whimper.

Echo buries his blushing face in his drink. Rex wishes he could do the same, but he’d chosen not to drink so that he could help Kix drag their inebriated brothers back to the barracks at the end of the night. He really wishes he had something to drink, right now. Preferably something strong.

“I really didn’t need to know that, Cody,” he murmurs despondently.

Fives, on the other hand, looks like he’s discovered the greatest treasure in all the galaxy. “You have it bad, _ori’vod_.”

“You would too in my position,” Cody grumbles. “Those thighs. _Bid draal_. And the hair, _sa mesh’la sa tracyn._ _Ni copaani alaar kaysh bat ner pel’gam_.”

“Alright, I think you’ve had enough to drink.” Rex takes care to push all the remaining drinks as far away from Cody as possible.

“You know, _vod_ , there is a simple solution to your problem.” Rex is going to strangle Fives before the night is over. “You just need to ask the General out, buy him a Narcolethe and then you two can _kriff_ each other all night long.”

It’s times like these that Rex seriously hates the No Ranks rule that exists inside 79’s. Fives is a little too eager to take advantage of it.

“I do not think that’s a good idea.” He glares at Fives in a way he hopes will shut him up.

“Why not?” No such luck apparently. “Do you think the General knows someone who died from Narcolethe?”

Rex rolls his eyes, “Fives, you can’t die from Narcolethe. It’s a myth, even Kix told you that.”

Fives exchanges a furtive glance with Echo before looking at Rex. “You can die from Narcolethe. Freefall didn’t die, but our friendship sure did.”

Rex isn’t going to touch that with a ten-foot pole.

Cody chooses that moment to emerge from his stupor. “You _di’kute_ know nothing. The General isn’t that kind of man. He’s a flirt, yes, but he is not one to just go out and...and... _kriff_ someone like that.” He jams his finger on the table. “He needs to be courted. Properly. Like a gentleman.”

“Maybe then you can court him.”

“Echo!” Rex has never felt so betrayed in his entire life.

At those words, Boil comes back into the conversation. “ _Kriff_ this, Echo’s right. You’ve got to court him.”

Cody looks utterly confused at the turn of events. “Me? Court a _Jetii_?”

“Why not?” Boil doesn’t give up. “If Bly can get himself a _Jetii_ General, why can’t you? You’re the highest ranking _vod_ in the GAR. Why shouldn’t you get a _Jetii_?”

Cody straightens in his seat, blinking slowly as if suddenly realizing something extremely important. “...you’re right, Boil.”

“No, he is not,” Rex interjects, grabbing his brother by the shoulder. “Boil, don’t put strange ideas in his head.”

“I regret nothing,” Boil takes a sip of his Ne’tra gal. “I have a bet running on when these two will get together and they’re already behind schedule, I am not going to lose all my credits to Wooley!”

Rex opens his mouth to reply but is stopped by Cody’s fist slamming on the table. He takes a small amount of pleasure in the way Boil spills half his drink on his pants. Pleasure that is quickly stifled by Cody’s next words.

“ _Vode_ , I am going to court General Kenobi.” He looks so proud at his announcement that Rex just slumps back in his seat, abandoning any thoughts of rescuing his brother from another poor life choice. Instead he raises his arm and signals a waiter to bring him a drink. He deserves it after what he’s heard.

Around him, his _vode_ cheer Cody, encouraging him in his shipwreck of an idea.

 _I have a bad feeling about this_. _.._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuy’val Dar - "Those who no longer exist", a group of bounty hunters (the majority of which was Mandalorian) who Jango brought to Kamino to help train the clones.  
> Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur - "Today is a good day for someone else to die"  
> Oya! - It has many meanings. In this case it's "Cheers/Hoorah!"  
> Mando'ad - "Mandalorian", literally it means "Son/Daughter of Mandalore"  
> Mando'a - "Mandalorian" this time indicating the language  
> Cuun Jetii - "Our Jedi"  
> Ne'tra gal - It's a sweet, spicy black beer. Typical Mandalorian alcohol  
> Ori'vod - "Older brother", literally "Big brother"  
> Bid draal - "So strong"  
> Sa mesh'la sa tracyn - "As beautiful as fire", I admit I made this one up. I did my best but the translation could be wrong  
> Ni copaani alaar kaysh bat ner pel’gam - "I want to feel it on my skin", again made this one up  
> Narcolethe - It's basically a very powerful alcholic drink. The Mandalorians got it from the Mandallian Giants whom they subjugated. Many people believe that Narcolethe is good for little more than ship fuel, it is that strong. Gotta love these Mandalorians


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cody does some research, learns one or two things and finds his determination to pursue his man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why this chapter was so hard to write, I am sorry for the long wait. I did it in the end! More than 9,000 words, this is getting insane!
> 
> Hope you you enjoy it!
> 
> As always, Mandalorian translations will be at the end of the chapter.

Cody wakes up and immediately wishes he hasn’t.

He draws the covers over his face, groaning in pain as the throbbing in his temples immediately doubles as soon as he regains consciousness. He mentally curses last night’s decision to drink so much to forget his embarrassment. At the time, it had felt like the only possible one after the most painful conversation he’d ever had with his General. Now, though, he doesn’t feel like he’s made the right decision, at all.

After a minute spent massaging his head, Cody risks opening his eyes again, still behind the safety of his blanket. He squints his eyes, relieved when the pain remains at a tolerable level. The accelerated metabolism all clones share, means that soon he should start feeling better – a small mercy, really. He can’t make an accurate prediction right now (he’d need to know what time it is and, at the moment, he has no intention of moving), but he doesn’t feel as bad as he thinks he should feel, going by what he remembers drinking the night before.

Maybe luck is on his side for once and he succeeded in sleeping off the worst of the hangover.

Once he feels like he can keep his eyes open without risking any setbacks on the migraine front, he focuses on figuring out where he is. The blanket he’s clutching in his hands, with its dark gray color and rough, itchy material has GAR property stamped all over it. It seems last night he managed to make it back to the barracks for the troops stationed on Coruscant. That’s good.

He chances lowering the blanket to peer at the room he’s in.

It’s too dark to see anything, which is telling in itself. No windows means he must have stumbled inside the barracks from one of the lower-level entrances. The more one goes down on Coruscant, the less there is to see, which is why the decision had been taken when re-purposing the building selected to become the GAR’s barracks, to forego windows on the lower levels and replace them with fake ones which project whatever background one chooses.

“Lights at 20%,” he says out loud.

Immediately the room is pervaded by a soft white light that, thankfully, doesn’t spike any annoying throbbing as it hits his eyes. The room Cody’s in isn’t particularly big, certainly not as big as it should be for a Commander, but it is still big enough not to be the standard lodging for a regular clone trooper. From where he’s curled on the bed, Cody sees a table in one corner with a built-in holo-projector and next to it a rack with his armor neatly stored away, only his bucket missing. A quick sweep of the room reveals that his helmet, for some reason, is on the floor next to the bed.

A small blinking light on the visor reveals that he has a communication not yet visioned. Cody decides to let that be for the moment. He’s on leave for the next two days so whatever the comm is, it should not be anything terribly important.

Close to the door that leads outside his temporary lodgings, there is another one that must lead to the fresher.

Cody lets out a small sigh and leans back on the bed, closing his eyes for a second to take a mental scan of his physical condition. He’s pleased to find out that, besides the slowly receding headache, there’s nothing wrong with his body. No queasy stomach, which is a definite plus as he really wants to avoid emptying his stomach first thing in the morning. His mouth feels like it was stuffed full of sand at some point during the night, but it’s nothing a couple of glasses of water coupled with a good brushing of teeth won’t solve.

He opens his eyes and stretches in bed, delighting in the satisfying popping noises he hears as he loosens his muscles. Glancing to his side, he focuses on the faux window that takes up all the left side of the room. Whoever the previous brother who stayed in this room was, he must have been missing his posting on a ship. On the screen, stars slowly crawl forward simulating the advance of a starship through space. As Cody watches, the stars suddenly elongate in the curious display of lights that precedes a jump to hyperspace.

The familiar sight of the swirling blues and whites, makes a vague sense of nostalgia bloom inside Cody’s chest. He wonders what it means that he’s been out of active combat for less than a day and he already misses the comfort of a starship full of brothers ready to fight at his side, a General smiling at him with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

“It’s too early in the morning to think like this, _Kote_ ,” he mutters to himself.

He swings his legs to the side and plants his feet firmly on the ground. There’s a brief flare of pain as he sits upright, but it goes away quickly enough that it barely registers in Cody’s mind. He swipes his bucket off the ground and slowly stands up to make his way to the holo-projector. He grimaces as his feet touch the floor, its metal awfully cold to him. Cody’s never been at ease in cold environments and he blames his higher than normal body temperature for the discomfort. The jarring contrast of the ice-like floor with his sensitive soles has a shiver run all the way up his back.

“ _Haar’chak!_ ” Cody swears under his breath as he hops on his tip-toes to the holo-projector.

He sits at the table and curls his feet protectively under him on the chair. Connecting his bucket to the projector is easy, and soon he’s typing in his code to access the communication he has yet to visualize. He frowns when Boil pops up in the blue light of the hologram.

“ _Good morning, Commander. If you’re seeing this recording it means you didn’t die of alcohol poisoning last night. Though, you certainly did try_ ,” Boil smiles deviously from the hologram and Cody feels dread pool in his stomach _._ _“L_ _ast night has been...let’s say, revealing. Certain things were revealed and the boys and I want to really congratulate you for the courage you displayed. You finally opened up about your feelings and we all want to support you in your endeavor._ ”

“What in the…” Cody whispers as Boil keeps on talking.

“ _It was a long time coming, Commander. You have not been as discreet as you thought you were being. Honestly, sir, you’re lucky the General seems to be quite oblivious._ _I’m sure you’ll quickly rectify the situation, though, right, sir?_ ” Boil throws a cheeky wink his way and moves his eyebrows up and down for added effect. “ _Anyways, we all know that the first thing you’re going to do as soon as you remember last night, is going to be using alcohol as an excuse not to go through with your declaration of intent, sir. That cannot happen. For that reason, the boys and I asked the one person capable of getting through to you, to record a little message for you. Of course, we did all of this with the utmost respect for you, Commander._ ”

Cody feels nauseous. Whatever happened the night before? He vaguely registers Boil’s hologram tapping on his comm and then disappearing. A beeping sound from his comm unit (the muffled sound seems to come from the upper part of his blacks, abandoned on the floor next to his bed) signals that a new message has been received. No doubt it is the recorded message Boil was talking about, likely triggered by Cody’s visioning of the first comm.

As the holo-projector processes the message and prepares to project it, Cody quickly goes over the previous night’s event. He remembers going with Rex to 79’s to drink himself out of the embarrassment of his General getting the 212th  leave because everyone was too horny to be around the _Jetii_ . He remembers sitting at a table with his _vod’ika_ and listening to his worried voice as Cody started drinking with no intention of stopping. Of course, Boil joined them, he remembers as much, and even if he didn’t the message he just visualized confirmed his brother’s presence last night.

Cody thinks harder and he remembers, vaguely, the presence of other brothers at his table. Maybe...Fives? He seems to remembers someone laughing at his expenses and who else could do that if not Rex’s troublesome trooper? But who was the other one? Someone quieter, someone who made Rex let out a betrayed-sounding squeak at some point. Try as he might, Cody can’t seem to remember who else was there. No matter, he allows himself to relax a bit as nothing he can recall from last night seems particularly damning.

His eyes flicker to the holo-projector. The recording is almost ready to be viewed.

Cody dabs absentmindedly at his forehead where a thin layer of sweat is gathering. He swallows heavily as he watches the message being processed. Surely he is misremembering the way he talked about General Kenobi. And he most certainly did not tell everyone seated at the table about the embarrassing sparring session he had with the General. No way he proclaimed out loud his intention of courting Kenobi. Cody shakes his head. It was just an alcohol induced dream. It must be.

The hologram flickers to life and Cody can’t help the moan that crawls out of his throat at what he sees in front of his eyes. Boil had _Cody_ himself record a message the night before, that devious little son of a bantha. The man in the hologram is sitting at a table, bottles visible in a corner, and he is clearly quite intoxicated. Cody watches himself list perilously to the right until a hand appears from the side of the hologram to right him back up. The Commander wishes the floor would open up beneath his feet to swallow him whole.

“ _Thank you, Rex’ika_ ,” Cody’s hologram says with a dazed smile. “ _You’re once again my favorite_ vod’ika _. Aren’t you happy?_ ”

“ _I’m ecstatic,_ vod,” Rex mutters under his breath.

“ _Commander, didn’t you have something to say?_ ”

Cody frowns. The voice was softer than Boil’s. Maybe Fives? Cody is going to jot down the name of every brother involved in this betrayal and he’s going to make them pay.

The Cody in the hologram frowns and blinks slowly, “ _A message?”_ He scratches the top of his head before straightening with a terrifyingly happy smile stretching his lips. “ _Oh, the message!”_

Hologram-Cody turns to look at the holo-cam, except he turns a little too much and ends up looking a little to the left of the objective. Whoever is holding the recording device shuffles slightly to the side to center Cody’s face again, likely giving up on having the Commander control himself enough to know where to look.

“ _Hello there, Commander Kote,_ ” hologram-Cody says in a frankly dreadful Coruscanti accent before dissolving in a soft giggle. The camera trembles suspiciously and Cody feels himself dying a little inside at the amount of blackmail he has served to his brothers. Hologram-Cody goes on speaking. “ _You might be wondering what I want to say to you...or me, maybe?_ ” He seems confused for a moment, but he quickly shoves his confusion aside. “ _Well, tonight we took a big step forward and we can’t go back. You know what we have to do. We’ve lied to ourselves long enough, we’ve pretended long enough. I don’t know you, but I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to bury my face in his neck and never_ _come back up for air_ _._ ”

Cody pushes back his chair and stands up, turning his back on the recording. He can’t stand to listen to the hologram’s (his) words. He’s not sober enough to face head on the honesty his inebriation set free. He has worked hard to bury all these emotions as deep as possible to keep on being professional with his General. He can’t simply acknowledge what he wants without thinking about the consequences. He can’t. _They_ can’t. It’s better if they keep everything as is, never acknowledging what Cody, deep down, hopes is not a one-way attraction.

“ _We are_ Mando’ade _, Kote._ ” The hologram growls behind him and Cody freezes. “Mando’ade _never back down, we take what we want and we don’t let anything_ _stand_ _in our way. Or do you want to tell me we are_ hut’uun _?_ ” He spits the last word as if it were something foul. And it is to them. The Template trained them to be soldiers for the GAR, yes, but first and foremost he trained them to be like him, proud Mando’ade. The Resol’nare as much part of them as their blood and bones and soul. To be called _hut’uun_ is not something Cody will ever allow. Not even from himself.

“ _We said we would court our_ Alor _and so that is what we will do. We’re giving our word, do not dare make us_ jehaata.” Hologram-Cody then says the three words that seal his declaration. The three words Cody knows he cannot go against, whether he wants to or not. “Haat, Ijaa, Haa’it.”

The hologram flickers and disappears and Cody closes his eyes. What is there to say? He cannot lie to himself, not anymore. His impulsive declaration the night before may have been the product of too much alcohol, but the words he’d said had been on his mind for so long now. Too many times has he lost himself looking at his General. Too many times has his heart somersaulted in his chest when Kenobi smiled at him. Too many times has his breath left him when a droid’s blaster bolt came too close to his General’s head for Cody’s comfort.

Cody has told himself over and over again, that what he feels for Kenobi is no different than what he feels for his _vode_. That need to protect and cherish is indeed as strong as the one he feels when he makes sure his brothers are fine after every single mission. But he doesn’t want to hold his _vode_ in his arms and feel their warmth seep into him. He doesn’t want to take a deep breath and fill his lungs with the scent that is exclusively them, until he can’t smell anything else. He doesn’t want to kiss his brothers, feel their lips moving against his in an unspoken promise of companionship.

But he does want those things from General Kenobi. And so much more. Oh so much more that it hurts sometimes.

“I really do have it bad,” Cody murmurs to himself, remembering Fives’ words from the night before.

With a deep sigh, he goes into the fresher. Apparently, the room he ended up in last night is reserved for brothers of a high enough rank to garner the privilege of a water shower, instead of a sonic one. Cody strips naked and steps into the shower, immediately setting the water temperature to what a nat-born would consider scorching hot.

He crosses his arms against the wall, pressing his forehead against them. He lets the scalding water run down his back, loosening his muscles and making him relax like he has not had the chance to do for so long now, he barely remembers what being stress-free feels like.

Is he really going to court General Kenobi?

He has to admit that it feels right just to even think that. Cody can’t remember a time when anything about Kenobi ever felt wrong. Taking care of him has never felt like a burden to Cody. He’d expected it to feel that way, at the beginning. When he’d met the man, Cody had believed him to be another inexperienced _Jetii_ who would get his brothers killed. Not long after, he’d realized that Kenobi would only get _himself_ killed while trying to save everyone else. Caring for him, making sure he ate and slept and was alright had felt natural for Cody.

In a way, he supposes, Cody is already courting the General. He just needs to make it official in his brothers’ eyes.

A shiver runs down his spine at the thought. The _Mando’ad_ in him can’t help but feel a surge of possessiveness at the mere thought of staking his claim on the General, of making clear to every _vod_ in the GAR his intention to start a courtship with Kenobi. He already knows his General is the perfect mate for him. A warrior strong in both body and mind, devoted to his _aliit_ , mindful of his men’s culture and willingly participating in it. And he speaks _Mando’a_ so beautifully. Cody could listen to him speak in his language for hours, without ever tiring. Cody allows himself to imagine what it would feel like to hear Kenobi call him _cyare_ or perhaps _ner kar’ta_. He stops before imagining further, already overwhelmed by the feelings invoked by those words.

Yes, Kenobi would be a perfect mate for him.

However, as he washes himself with quick and assured movements, he considers whether it would be permitted to him to court General Kenobi. Cody’s not too concerned by GAR regulations as he’s pretty sure the myriad of rules in it don’t even touch on the possibility of relationships for him and his brothers. After all, why would non-sentients like them, mere clones of a true person, even know what love and commitment are? Normally, he would feel rightfully insulted by the implications that the _vode_ do not have emotions like the nat-borns do, but this time the Republic’s myopia and downright disregard for the basic rights of the _vode,_ might actually play in Cody’s favor.

What truly worries him is the Jedi Order.

Cody doesn’t know much about the Code his General mentions every now and then, before now he never had any reason to learn more about it. What he knows about the Jedi, he learned on Kamino when the longnecks prepared them for the Generals who would command them. Some things the _Kaminiise_ taught them, he learned to be untrue through observation. For one, the _Jetiise_ are not emotionless, far from it actually. They are good Generals, for the most part, and great warriors, although they seem to prefer to search for alternatives to violence whenever they can. It is not something Cody or his brothers understand, but they do respect it.

It is quite unclear where the Order stands on relationships. Cody has never asked his General whether the Jedi can have relationships or not. He’s heard General Kenobi speak of attachments with Commander Tano and General Skywalker, but Cody doesn’t really understand what that means. Isn’t the relationship between a _Jetii_ and their shiny, their Padawan, an attachment? If it is not, and some types of relationships are allowed, then what kind of bonds fall under the definition of attachment? What is permitted?

Cody huffs an irritated breath and steps out of the shower to pat himself dry with a towel. As he goes to grab some clothes to put on, he passes in front of the small mirror over the sink and catches his reflection. He runs his fingers through his hair, for the first time noticing how long it’s getting. He tilts his head to the side and yes, he definitely needs a haircut. His brothers may have the freedom to get creative with their hair, but as a Commander (and not a simple Commander but a Marshal Commander) Cody cannot allow himself to so blatantly disregard GAR regulations.

Shuffling back into the bedroom, he ponders on his previous problem.

If he wants to court his General (and at this point it’s been decided that he definitely wants to court him), he’s going to need to know exactly how to move. That means figuring out where the Jedi Order stands on romantic relationships, and to figure that one out there’s really only one place in the Galaxy where to find some answers.

Cody puts on his underwear and then forgoes his blacks and chooses instead a sleeveless black undershirt to go under his uniform. He grabs his used clothes from the night before and tosses them in the hamper for the droids to collect and wash. He goes to the wardrobe and inputs his personal code to unlock the compartment to get a formal uniform fit for his rank. He dresses quickly and dons his hat, checking himself one last time in the mirror to make sure everything is in order before leaving the barracks.

Stepping foot into the Jedi Temple is always an experience. It’s not the first time Cody’s getting inside the Temple, but usually he’s accompanying General Kenobi to meetings with the Jedi Council regarding specific missions or campaigns they’re about to embark on. He’s never walked in alone and for that reason, he feels slight apprehension as he walks past the two Temple Guards stationed by the public entrance to the Temple (General Kenobi always has them walk in through the main entrance, with its towering statues of ancient Jedi, but Cody suspects he’s granted passage through that way only when he’s accompanying his General).

The two Guards do not react to his presence, their masks never deviate their unblinking stare forward from beneath their white hoods. Cody doesn’t believe for a second that they didn’t feel him through the Force, though. Still, he walks inside unbothered so he pushes away his discomfort and moves on. Belatedly, he wonders if this is the kind of feeling he and his brothers invoke in the civilians that see them, all clad in their armor, their humanity concealed behind expressionless helmets.

It’s a disconcerting thought, but one that is worth reflecting on. Later, though.

Back on Kamino, the longnecks had all the CC batches of clones learn the blueprint of the Jedi Temple by heart, in case of one of the worst possible scenarios in the war – a direct attack to the sacred heart of the Jedi. Cody doesn’t know exactly what’s inside every hall or room (the Jedi guard their secrets jealously, rightfully so in Cody’s opinion), but he does know how to get to the Jedi Archives without too much of a fuss.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling doors leading to the halls where all the Jedi’s knowledge is stored, Cody takes off his hat and silently steps in.

He’s not surprised to see that there’s plenty of activity inside the Archives. Jedi Masters, or maybe Knights (Cody still doesn’t know how to distinguish the two just by looking at them), walk up and down the rows of data-banks lining the walls. Many of the holo-tables are occupied by Jedi shinies all focused on their work. In a corner, he even sees a whole group of barely decanted _Jetii_ _se_ sitting around an adult Jedi all busy explaining something to them.

Cody looks around in search of someone who can help direct him toward a table he can use to do his research.

He spots a gray-haired woman speaking with a shiny and by the way she gently steers her toward a holo-table before leaving her to her work, Cody believes he’s found the right person.

Cody approaches the old lady and stops at a respectful distance at her side, waiting to be noticed. When the old woman turns and smiles at him, Cody clicks his heels together and snaps a perfect salute, one hand brushing his forehead while the other holds his hat behind his back. He notices how the older woman’s smile freezes on her lips, while her eyes harden as she looks at him. He has the sudden impression that he has somehow offended her without even knowing how.

The old lady gathers herself and waves a hand in his direction. “No need for that inside my Archive, young man. I am no General nor do I wish to be treated as one.”

She hasn’t given him permission to settle into a parade rest, but he feels certain her words imply that he can. He slides into a more relaxed stance, widening the placement of his feet and holding both hands behind his back. It’s a stance he regularly takes when in his General’s vicinity and, at this point, it’s almost a comfort for him.

“Now, I’d say it is time for introductions, yes?” The woman’s smile is warmer now. “May I know your name?”

Cody wouldn’t say that he’s an expert on _Jetii_ _se_ , but he has learned to differentiate between those who want to know his name, and those who want to hear him recite his serial number.

“I am Marshal Commander Cody of the 7th Sky Corps, Ma’am,” he says formally, restraining himself from standing at attention again.

“Ah, Master Kenobi’s Commander.” She says his General’s name with fondness. “I am Jedi Master Jocasta Nu, Chief Librarian of the Jedi Archives.” She bows respectfully to him, almost giving Cody a heart attack. “How may I help you, Commander?”

Cody takes a moment to clear his throat, momentarily speechless at the amount of respect he has just been shown. “Master Nu, I was wondering whether it would be possible for me to access some reading materials on the Jedi Code. On Kamino we were trained to serve the Jedi, but we were never made to study their Order and their beliefs. I feel it would be useful to know more about the Order me and my brothers are meant to serve.” He feels his explanation is true enough to not raise suspicions, and it certainly sounds better than ‘I want to know if I’m allowed to pursue my General without either of us having to face unpleasant consequences’.

There’s a pleased glint in Master Nu’s eyes at his words that dulls a little when he implicitly reminds her that he and his brothers are essentially property of the Jedi Order. Cody’s always thought that to be a sour topic only for his General and a select few, so he’s comforted by the fact that someone else (someone outside the war, who didn’t come into direct contact with the _vode_ ) feels just as strongly as Kenobi for him and his brothers.

Master Nu shakes herself out of her disappointment at the clones’ treatment and smiles warmly at him. “Well, Commander, yours seems like a wonderful idea. We should always promote and insist on a better understanding among us,” she says, gesturing for him to follow after her. “It is truly commendable on your part to want to find the time to learn more about the Jedi Order in the middle of this war. It warms my heart to see someone so young and so interested in learning more whenever possible.” She turns to look at him with a positively mischievous grin curving her lips. “I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, Master Kenobi always speaks very highly of you, Commander.”

She walks into an aisle on the side and Cody scrambles to follow after her, his mind still replaying her words in his head. General Kenobi talks about him to his fellow _Jetiise_ , and apparently he speaks ‘very highly’ of him. He feels his cheeks warming as he stops beside Master Nu.

“I think we can get you started with these.” She pulls out a long and thin drawer from the wall containing what must be Jedi Holocrons, if he remembers correctly what General Kenobi said about the content of the Jedi Archives. Master Nu runs her fingers over the thin line of data-chips before selecting three seemingly at random. “These contain the Jedi Code and its interpretations following the two main schools of thought that have emerged in the Jedi Order since its foundation.”

Master Nu presses the three data-chips into his hand before sliding out another drawer, this time from the wall right behind Cody. She pulls out two other data-chips and adds them to the ones already in his hands. “These instead contain a brief history of the Jedi Order and the many changes that occurred within it, together with a list of all major events that occurred in our Galaxy to offer a bit of context.”

With a gentle hand she steers him to a table in the main aisle occupied by only one other person – a Nautolan Jedi all focused on the screen before her.

“You can use this station,” Master Nu says, booting up the system. “You have access to the Holonet, should you need it, as well as limited access to the Archives where you’ll be able to find other texts pertaining to the Jedi Order, though I do think those data-chips should be enough to get you started. You can stay here for as long as you like, Commander. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, dear.”

With one last warm smile, Master Nu leaves him alone. Cody watches her leave to help a young Jedi who needs her expertise.

He’s baffled by how easy it is to get something inside the Jedi Temple. He’d originally assumed that doing research in the Jedi Archives would be precluded to him, not just because he’s nothing but a clone, but because he is simply not a Jedi. He’d been prepared to ask General Kenobi to formally request reading materials in his stead, but apparently he’d been preparing for nothing. Of course, it could be that things had been this easy _because_ he is General Kenobi’s Commander. Either way, Cody is not about to look into a gifted bantha’s mouth.

He sits at his station ready to start learning more about the Jedi Order. He goes straight for the chips containing the Jedi Code and its interpretations. He’s interested in the history of the Order and he will definitely go back to that when he has the time, but right now he has more pressing issues at hand.

Three full hours later, he is no closer to finding the answer to his question. The Jedi Code is staggering in its simplicity with all of its five short sentences. The two that could perhaps be an indicator that Jedi cannot have relationships would be ‘ _there is no emotion, there is peace_ ’ and ‘ _there is no passion, there is serenity_ ’. However, if Cody interpreted those lines correctly, and he feels he has, the first sentence doesn’t imply that a Jedi should be without emotions to be at peace, rather that a Jedi should be in complete control of their emotions to reach peace and better do what they’re supposed to do. The second sentence, on the other hand, Cody interprets to be a warning against letting oneself fall prey to violent emotions, thus straying too far from the serenity that keeps the _Jetiise_ from turning into _Dar’Jetiise._

Pretty basic.

Which is why Cody is having a hard time sifting through all this Jedi vagueness. In the data-chips regarding the interpretation of the Code, Cody has found so many different ways of applying the tenets of the Order (from a lifetime of chastity to one of wild debauchery), that he really doesn’t know which one General Kenobi is following.

The more he thinks about Kenobi, the more Cody believes that his Jedi has not devoted himself to a life of chastity. Sure, he has not personally seen his General with anyone, but one does not flirt so effortlessly if one has no experience in romance.

Still, he can’t simply act on suppositions.

With a sigh, Cody stands up and powers down the station he used. Once he has gathered all his chips, he goes to search for Master Nu so that he can give them back to her. He’s disappointed by the lack of results his mission yielded. He needs another way to gather information. Maybe his brother Bly will know more, if the rumors about him and General Secura are true.

He is not looking forward to that conversation with his younger brother. Neither of them has ever been good with emotions, so speaking of their interest for their respective Generals is not going to be easy.

Cody finds Master Nu sitting at her table next to the entrance of the Archives.

He walks closer to her and before he can even open his mouth to catch her attention, she raises her head and smiles at him. Cody resists the temptation to roll his eyes at the typical Jedi behavior, realizing she has probably felt him approach through the Force or something.

“Were the data-chips satisfactory, Commander?” She stands up and leans her hands on the counter.

Cody sets the data-chips down in a neat pile. “They were, ma’am. I was not able to read through the two on the Order’s history, but what I read about the Jedi Code was…” He struggles to find the right words.

“Purposefully vague? Up to interpretation? Hard to understand because it was written thousands of years ago by old men and women who probably delighted in confusing their descendants?” Master Nu says, eyebrows arching up toward her hairline.

“I did not mean to offend.” Cody’s spine is rigid with discomfort. Perhaps he should not have let his guard down solely because Master Nu showed him basic respect.

She seems to realize that her tone of voice sparked uneasiness inside him, because she immediately softens her words, “You are not the only one confused by what the first Jedi wanted to say when the Code was written down. All of us share your confusion. Indeed we spend a great portion of our lives searching for a way to follow the Code to the best of our abilities.” She looks behind him, and a moment later Cody feels a warm hand cover his shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Master Kenobi?”

General Kenobi appears at his side, the hint of a smile curving his lips underneath his mustaches. “What are we discussing, Master Nu?”

“Your Commander expressed an interest in learning more about the Jedi Code.”

Those bright eyes slide to lock with his and Cody has to steel himself to not drown in them, though he cannot stop his body from leaning into the touch of the hand his General still keeps on him, the length of the solid arm that spans the width of his back.

“Oh? Why Commander, if you wanted to learn more on how the ancient Jedi delighted in confusing us all, you could have asked me,” his General says teasingly, in that same tone Cody’s heard him use against his opponents to catch them by surprise and make them lower their guards.

Yet Cody feels those words hide a hint of hurt. He thinks of all the late-night conversations he’s had with his General, all the topics they tackled without problems because they’re both too inquisitive for their own good. It hadn’t been Cody’s intention to make his General feel like his opinion wasn’t required or appreciated on a matter so close to him. At the same time, the Commander feels thrilled at the reaction he involuntarily provoked, because it shows so clearly how much Kenobi cares about their little moments.

“I didn’t want to take up your free time, sir,” he speaks quietly, painfully aware that they have an audience and he can’t say exactly what he means. “I enjoy discussing matters like these with you, but it’s rare for us to have a few days away from combat and I didn’t want you to give up what little time has been afforded to us to relax.”

General Kenobi’s eyes soften and he takes his hand away from Cody’s shoulder, leaving the Commander missing the warmth that had seeped in him through the thin fabric of his formal uniform. Cody almost screams at him to please never stop touching him, but a movement in the corner of his eye reminds him of the still present Master Nu.

Kenobi leans a little closer to his Commander, “I appreciate your concern, Commander, but you should know that I always have time to speak with you of whatever subject you wish.”

An amused chuckle makes the two men turn to the side.

“I’m glad to see you found someone who shares your passion for intellectual dueling, Master Kenobi,” Jocasta Nu says with fondness. Her smile vanishes quickly, however, and she shakes her head dejectedly. “Although, I do feel sad that it only took you mere months away from the Temple to replace me.”

Cody observes with honest delight as General Kenobi steps forward and takes one of Master Nu’s hand in both of his, bestowing upon her the dazzling smile that the Commander knows for a fact succeeds in charming recalcitrant politicians left and right.

“You wound me, Madame,” Kenobi’s voice is a soft hum. “My dear, you know you have held a special place in my heart ever since you helped me complete my assignment on the Ruusan Reformation without telling Master Qui-Gon that I had been making a mess of it before your intervention.”

Cody fights back a smile at the way Master Nu’s cheeks redden. She bats away his General’s hands and turns toward him.

“Always a charmer this one,” she said. “I knew he meant trouble the second I saw him stumble through the doors of my Archive. How ever do you manage to deal with him, Commander?”

“I merely do my job, ma’am,” Cody responds in all seriousness. “That and I find that keeping the stores of tea always fully replenished, lowers the chances of the General finding trouble, provided he has a cup in hand within 30 minutes from the moment he woke up.” He smiles conspiratorially to the older woman, enjoying the light teasing at his General’s expenses.

Kenobi sputters indignantly at his side, no doubt coming up with a witty response to Cody’s words. Master Nu, on the other hand, looks at Cody with some of the fondness the Commander had previously noticed being reserved exclusively for his General. Cody decides to push things a little further in the hopes of ingratiating himself to the older Jedi. The potential for stories on his General as a shiny is just too much to pass on.

Cody tries to channel some of his General’s charm as he smiles at Master Nu, “In all honesty, ma’am, you need not worry of losing your position as his intellectual partner. I am afraid I am nowhere near your level when it comes to verbal sparring. Half the time I am merely trying to keep up with the General.”

“A couple of charmers, both of you,” Master Nu shakes her head and collects the data-chips that Cody had left on top of the counter. “Have you read all of them?”

Cody shakes his head in denial. “Only the ones regarding the Jedi Code. I did not have the time to read up on the history of the Order, unfortunately.”

“How long are you staying on Coruscant?” she asks, leaning on the counter. “You are welcome to come back and finish what you were reading. Indeed, I would be happy to give you more material to read.”

Cody is at a loss for words. He wants to accept Master Nu’s invitation but, apart from the fact that his leave will only last two more days, he honestly doesn’t know when he’ll be back on Coruscant. He doesn’t even know if he’ll survive long enough to get back to the Temple.

Luckily, General Kenobi steps in to his aid before too much time passes in complete silence.

“I’m sure the Commander appreciates you offer, Madame Nu,” he says gently. “Unfortunately we’re planetside for just a short time and we don’t know when we’ll be back. I will be sure to give my Commander here some of the data-chips I still have about the Jedi Order, so he won’t stay behind in his studies.” He looks at Cody with a small smirk.

The Commander raises an eyebrow at the unexpected offer. “Really, sir?”

Anyone else might have missed the moment of hesitation before General Kenobi’s answer. Cody, however, has spent far too much time observing his General to let anything pass him by.

“Of course, Commander. In fact, if you don’t mind, perhaps we could spend midmeal together and discuss what you’ve learned so far about the Jedi Order?” General Kenobi shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “I completely understand if you already had plans with your brothers, Commander.”

Cody is quick to answer, “No plans, sir. It would be my pleasure to eat midmeal with you, General.”

Perhaps he’s pushing it a bit too far with how quick he is to accept the offer of some alone time with General Kenobi, but the slight reddening of the other man’s cheeks and the light smile he can see peeking through the perfectly trimmed beard tell him his answer has been the correct one.

“Off you go then, gentlemen,” Master Nu shoos them away with exasperated fondness. “I have spent far too much time talking with you, if you will excuse me I will go back to my duties.”

Jedi Master Jocasta Nu collects her data-chips and dips her head in a polite farewell to both of them. Cody can’t be sure, but he thinks that the slight twinkle in her eyes when she looks at him before turning away to leave, looks like approval. At what, he can only guess. He is left feeling content, though, and happy to have met another Jedi that reminds him of the gentle strength embodied by his General.

Speaking of his General, Cody turns toward the slightly taller man.

“Shall we, sir?” He asks expectantly.

General Kenobi shakes himself out of whatever train of thought he’s lost himself in and turns around. Cody dutifully follows him out of the Jedi Archive.

The two walk in silence, Cody one step behind his General and a little to the left, as he usually does. He can tell by the way Kenobi turns to look at him every now and then that the General wants to say something to him, but he never does. Cody suspects his Jedi wants him to walk beside him and not behind but even if they’re on leave, Cody cannot bring himself to disregard the chain of command so drastically.

General Kenobi leads them to a turbolift and presses the button that will bring them to a much higher level. Cody frowns as he is quite sure the refectory in the Jedi Temple is on a completely different level.

He chances a glance at General Kenobi but the other man stares placidly at the closed door of the turbolift.

“Sir, I thought we were going to eat midmeal?” Perhaps the General needs to stop somewhere else before eating.

Kenobi turns toward him. “We are.”

Sometimes Cody really hates the way his General likes to be purposefully vague.

“Aren’t we going to the wrong level, then?”

Kenobi seems to finally understands what Cody’s getting at as his eyebrows jump up. “Oh we’re not going to the refectory.” He steps off the turbolift, Cody easily keeping up with him. “They serve soup today and I do not know about you, Commander, but I reckon I can go without soup for the rest of the month.”

“I agree with you there, sir.” Cody could go a whole year without that bland dish the GAR liked to call soup. “Where are we going to eat then?”

General Kenobi stops in front of a simple door in the middle of a deserted hallway.

“Oh, I thought I could simply whip something up in my quarters.” Kenobi presses his palm to the reader beside the door, unlocking it and stepping through in a brightly lit room.

Cody remains immobile where he is. This is not something he’s prepared for. On the _Negotiator_ he has spent countless evening in his General’s personal quarters, discussing battle strategies or whatever other topic of which they wished to know the other’s opinion on, but this feels different. Cody always thinks of the _Negotiator_ as _their_ ship that, coincidentally, also happens to be the closest thing he has to a home. For this reason, it doesn’t feel weird to him to step into his General’s quarters as they’re simply another part of his home.

But these are his Jedi’s personal quarters. Inside the Jedi Temple. His General’s home.

Cody’s stuck where he is, a step outside the General’s quarters, close enough that the door’s sensors won’t allow it to slide shut in his face. From where he stands, he catches a glimpse of what appears to be a living room, the back of a white sofa right in front of him, cluttered shelves behind it. His General disappeared from view, though Cody can still hear him chattering about what he wants to cook, no doubt believing Cody to be right behind him because that’s where he always is.

The General’s voice stops and a moment later he appears on the doorway. He’s wearing slippers instead of the tall brown boots he usually wears, and he holds another pair in his hands which he sets down in front of Cody.

Cody shifts his weight nervously, not knowing how to behave.

“Is there something wrong?” The General’s voice is light, no hint of worry in it.

Cody licks his suddenly dry lips. “These are your quarters.”

“They are, yes.”

“Your personal quarters.”

General Kenobi frowns. “If there’s any problem, I need you to tell me, Commander. I admit I do not understand what is happening.”

“Is this allowed, sir?” Cody asks, afraid of possibly overstepping some invisible boundary.

“It is, Commander,” Kenobi answers kindly. “I am specifically inviting you to share a meal with me in my quarters. No one will have anything to say about this. It is quite a common occurrence for Jedi Knights and Masters to invite friends and acquaintances to their places.” The General observes attentively how his Commander still doesn’t seem sure what to do. “Of course, if you would prefer to eat in the refectory, you only need to say it and we will go down there immediately. It really is no problem.”

Cody takes a tentative step forward and his General steps aside to make room for him. Cody feels stupid for his hesitation, but this feels like an incredibly huge step to take. The sound of the door sliding closed behind him almost makes him dizzy, yet there’s also a sense of heady elation. The fact that his General feels so comfortable inviting him in such a personal space bolsters Cody’s confidence that perhaps his attraction to the other man is not unrequited.

“Shoes off, please. The floors have just been cleaned.”

Cody complies with the request and slides his feet in the soft slippers General Kenobi had brought out for him.

“If you want to take your jacket off, you can hang it over there,” his _Jetii_ says as he steps away, walking into the small kitchenette located in the corner of the ample room they’re standing in. “Otherwise, you can just make yourself comfortable, Commander.”

“Cody.” He doesn’t know what possesses him to speak up, all he knows is that it feels wrong to be called ‘Commander’ in these rooms.

General Kenobi turns his head to look at him from where he stands in his kitchen, arms full of the ingredients he’d been gathering to prepare their meal. His blue-gray eyes are wide in astonishment. He seems genuinely surprised by his Commander’s request, though not, Cody notices with elation, off-put by it.

The General nods to himself, “Well, we are on leave, aren’t we? I suppose you’re not my Commander and I am not your General, right now.” He muses to himself. He sets his armful down on the counter and looks up, “Well then, what is your opinion on spicy foods, Cody?”

The light spark of warmth Cody always associates with his General saying his name out loud is much more intense today, here in his General’s home.

His Jedi is still waiting patiently for his answer. “I love them.” He hesitates briefly before deciding to go for a bold, “Obi-Wan.”

The smile he receives in return almost makes him go light-headed. Oh, how unspeakably good it felt to say his General’s, no _Obi-Wan_ ’s, name out loud.

“Make yourself comfortable then, while I prepare our food.”

After that, things proceed smoothly. Obi-Wan focuses on preparing their food while Cody wanders around the living space and catalogs all the little trinkets detailing his Jedi’s life throughout the years.

Obi-Wan’s quarters are exactly as Cody had always imagined them to be. They’re nothing too grand, a main portion occupied by the large room that serves as both kitchen (and dining room thanks to the small island where Obi-Wan has already set the table for two) and living room. The only furniture present is the cream-colored sofa, a low table with a stack of datapads on top of it, a comm-unit discretely tucked away in a corner between two shelving units (one is filled with actual flimsi books, while the other stores little trinkets from all over the Galaxy).

The rest of Obi-Wan’s quarters are a small fresher unit and his sleeping quarters at the end of a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it corridor. The only reason Cody even notices the rest of the quarters is because at a certain point, he notices a lull in the light conversation he’d been holding with his Jedi and, when he turns, he catches the exhilarating sight of Obi-Wan emerging from his room as he’s changing his Jedi tabards and tunics for an old-looking green shirt with little gold decorations around the collar.

Cody’s grateful for the fact that Obi-Wan doesn’t seem to notice the way his eyes zeroed-in on the ginger happy-trail disappearing into his cream-colored leggings. Cody already knows that little scandalous detail will make a swift appearance in his dreams tonight and he can’t seem to feel bad about it.

Only when the two of them sit down to eat does Cody get the chance to investigate further into the Jedi Order’s policy regarding relationships.

“Cody, may I ask you what brought up your sudden interest in the Jedi Order?”

Cody takes his time to answer, half because he needs a moment to gather his thoughts before answering, and half because whatever Obi-Wan’s cooked is really spicy and he’ll be damned if he starts crying in front of his Jedi.

“I don’t want to overstep my boundaries, Obi-Wan, but I have noticed an...incongruity between the dangers of attachments I have heard you mention more than once, and some of the relationships I know exist among the Jedi.”

“You are referring to Anakin’s relationship with Senator Amidala.”

Cody stills, not expecting his Jedi to speak so freely of a relationship the _vode_ found themselves constantly tip-toeing around, afraid they would step on a Jedi minefield ending in decommissioning for all involved.

“You are aware of it?” Cody asks tentatively.

Obi-Wan nods, “He is not exactly discreet about it. Neither of them are.” He dabs his lips, cleaning them of the red spicy sauce he’d prepared so meticulously. “I did not think you would have concerned yourself with it, to be honest.”

Cody puts down his cutlery, focusing entirely on the conversation at hands. “The men and I were simply unsure how to move. It seemed to us that relationships are prohibited among the Jedi, and failing to report a breach of conduct results in decommissioning on Kamino.” He lost count of the times Rex had come running to him, worried out of his mind because General Skywalker had him cover up for him, especially those first few weeks serving under his new General.

Obi-Wan lays a hand on top of his, stilling the nervous twitch of his fingers. “Had I known the men were so concerned, I would have made sure to clear up the subject for everyone.” He retreats his hand and pushes away his empty plate, gearing up in the way Cody knows precedes a lesson from Master, not General, Kenobi. “Jedi are not prohibited from having relationships, romantic or otherwise, as many around the Galaxy seem to believe. Love is the foundation of a Jedi as it is from love that compassion, mercy and selflessness are born. What is prohibited is attachment, that is to say possessive love, the kind that blinds one from one’s duty to the Galaxy at large. Jedi are, first and foremost, peacekeepers devoted to serving the Republic and the Galaxy at large. A Jedi cannot value a single life above all else to the detriment of the rest of the Galaxy.”

As Cody listens to Obi-Wan explain the intricacies of love and attachments, he feels hope spring in his heart. If Jedi are allowed to love and have relationships, then perhaps his intention of courting Obi-Wan will be well received. He understands what Obi-Wan means when he says that duty must always come first, no matter what, and he has no problem knowing that, should he be lucky enough to win this man’s heart, he would have to come after Obi-Wan’s duty as a Jedi. He would expect nothing less from his Jedi.

“Why does General Skywalker try to hide his relationship then?” He asks, curious now.

Obi-Wan heaves a frustrated sigh. “I wish I knew, Cody. I am sure I explained to him that Jedi are allowed to have relationships when he was still my Padawan. His behavior worries me.”

He wants to offer comfort to his Jedi, much like Obi-Wan had done for him earlier, but he doesn’t think he is capable of it. The relationship between Obi-Wan and his Padawan (Cody understands that Obi-Wan will never stop thinking of General Skywalker as his Padawan, much like Cody will never stop thinking of Rex as his _vod’ika_ ) is a complicated one. He is not experienced enough to step in the middle of that without causing more trouble. So he changes the subject to one much dearer to him, ignoring the small voice in the back of his mind that screams _selfish!_ to him.

“What about you?”

Obi-Wan tilts his head to the side. “What about me?”

He cannot back down now. “Are you in a relationship?”

Obi-Wan lets out an amused chuckle. “Where would I find the time, my dear Commander?” He says teasingly before sobering up. “I have been in one or two relationships in the past. I’m afraid I wasn’t good at making them work.”

Cody shrugs his shoulders and dares to push a little more. “Perhaps that will change when you meet the right person.”

He doesn’t expect the laughter that bubbles unrestrained from Obi-Wan.

“Have I said something funny?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head and regards him with a small wistful smile. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve heard those words many times before.” Cody doesn’t know what to make of the soft confession. “I suppose you are right, in a way. I haven’t yet lost hope of meeting the person that I am meant to be with. I’m well aware that a romantic relationship is not the sole way of measuring how fulfilling our lives are, but I find myself wanting for a companion. Someone with whom to share my life.”

“Perhaps you won’t have to wait for long.” Cody doesn’t know where he found the courage to mutter those words.

Obi-Wan’s gaze pierces right through him. “Perhaps.”

As he observes Obi-Wan padding around his kitchen, cleaning their plates and what remains of their midmeal, Cody knows one thing with an absolute certainty that scares him and electrifies him like no battle ever has before.

He _will_ be the one who will get the privilege of sharing a life with Obi-Wan Kenobi. No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kote - "Glory". I don't know who started the trend of Kote being Cody's Mandalorian name but whoever you are, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for this little bit of perfection for my favorite clone  
> Haar'chak - "Damn it!"  
> Mando'ade - Plural of "Mando'ad", meaning Sons/Daughters of Mandalore  
> Hut'unn - "Coward", it's basically the worst insult imaginable for a Mandalorian  
> Resol'nare - The Six Actions that are the central tenets of Mandalorian life: education, armor, self-defense, language, tribe and the leader (the Mand'alor)  
> Jehaata - "Liar". I am not sure of this one as I made it up from "Jehaat" which means "lie"  
> Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it - "Truth, Honor, Vision", the three words that seal a pact for Mandalorians  
> Aliit - "Family/Clan"  
> Cyare - "Beloved"  
> Ner kar'ta - "My heart"


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the Courting begin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a slow writer, I beg your forgiveness!
> 
> You all are being amazing with the kudos and the comments and the bookmarks and the hits! I'm truly humbled and I hope this chapter won't disappoint you. I figured out halfway through that, no way was I going to be able to fit everything in just one chapter, so I had to split the Courting in two!
> 
> By the way, Mandalorian Courting Rituals and all the planets and alien races described are completely made-up, part of my headcanons!

For the longest time, Cody has wondered why the Template even bothered teaching them about _Manda’yaim_ and the _Resol’nare_ and the thousands upon thousands of years of culture that made the _Mando’ade_ who they were. The Template had been tasked with making soldiers of his clones and that’s exactly what he’d done with the first batches he’d trained with the help of the _Cuy’val Dar_.

Those years, the Template had taken center stage as the sole star of Cody’s nightmares. He knows for a fact that the same is true for his batchmates. A single word from the Template led entire batches of brothers to a swift and merciless decommission. Cody still remembers how, at the end of a day of training under the watchful eyes of the Template, he would count his brothers before going to sleep only to find their number to be painfully smaller the next morning. Cody had spent many nights wide awake, wondering if the day would ever come for him to be marched down white corridors never to see his brothers again.

As the _Kaminiise_ got better at producing new batches and the Template perfected their training regimen with the help of the _Cuy’val Dar_ , the number of brothers disappearing in the night diminished. It never stopped.

It was around that time that the Template gathered the first batches of clones and started teaching them _Mando’a_. After the language, it was Mandalorian history. Then Mandalorian culture. Finally, he taught them what it meant to be Mandalorian.

Cody had been too scared of the Template’s reaction to ask why they were being taught those things. All of them had been too scared. Fox, Ponds, Wolffe, Bly, all of them, even fearless Alpha-17, and so many others had sat with the Template and like the good soldiers they were, they had learned everything.

Many things Cody already knew. The Template was simply giving them new words to describe things the clones already knew in their hearts. So the other clones became _vode_ , and the batchmates became _aliit_ , and when the time came when CC-2224 turned into a cage instead of his designation, a chain shackling him into being a slave soldier instead of a person, well then CC-2224 decided to call himself _Kote_. If he was to fight in a war alongside _Jetii_ warriors with their shining _Jetii’kad_ _e_ and their mysterious Force, then he was going to be glorious, like the Mandalorian warriors of old.

It didn’t matter that the _Kaminiise_ mispronounced his name on purpose, refusing to let that sign of too much independence go unpunished, to the point that his own brothers started calling him Cody. He wasn’t their slave anymore. He still had to fight in their war, but he would do so on his own terms. And if he died, his _vode_ would sing a name, not a number, in their Remembrance.

Cody never forgot nor forgave the Template’s cruelty, and a part of him envied and resented Boba who was born with a name and was treated like a person even though he was a _vod_ like them. Cody never forgot nor forgave, but he did learn everything he could from the Template. Even the things he thought he would have no use for. Even the things he only ever allowed himself to dream of getting to practice in real life.

Like Mandalorian courting rituals.

Sitting in his room with Boil and Waxer, for the first time Cody feels a smudge of gratitude for the Template’s dedication to teaching them everything there was to know about Mandalorian culture.

Tradition would have Cody’s parents at his side, helping him shape the gift that will signal the start of the courtship. Since Cody has no parents, their place has been filled by his brothers. Cody had thought about asking Fox, Wolffe or even Rex and Bly to help him in this monumental endeavor. But they were too far, and often all of them were sent to far-off corners of the Galaxy, far from each other.

No, his brothers in the 212th  had been the right choice. Boil and Waxer were the closest _vode_ he had, Cody considered them batchmates even though they were younger than him. He also has to admit that so far, Boil had played a very big part in getting him to admit his feelings for their General.

The three brothers, sitting on the floor of Cody’s quarters on the _Negotiator_ , work with singular focus to shape the gift Cody will present Obi-Wan to make his intentions clear. All around them are strewn the carefully selected parts Cody gathered in the markets of Coruscant, the very next day after spending midmeal with his Jedi.

With steady fingers, Cody slowly engraves Mandalorian letters in the metal guard of the vibro-blade he is crafting for Obi-Wan. Right next to him, Waxer holds a short, thin blade, metal layered so that closer to the hilt it curves in two smaller side-blades that will increase its penetrative power the moment the knife is turned on. Seated across from them, Boil is treating the hilt of the vibro-blade with oils and powders that will make it easier to grip and will make the blue of the Duralium coating more vibrant.

“You know, maybe we didn’t think this through.” Boil grabs a cloth and cleans his hands from the oil before opening a small pouch and sprinkling a dark blue powder on the hilt of the vibro-blade.

“What do you mean?” Cody doesn’t look up from his engraving.

“The Mandalorian courting,” Boil says. “As soon as you give this to the General, every single _vod_ will know that you intend to court him. But will the General know?”

Cody tilts his head and looks critically at the finished incision. The letters are perfectly formed, now he only needs to add a light coating of gold to make them really stand out. It was a fortune that the Techno Union used gold in the manufacture of their droids. It made for easy picking at the end of a battle.

“He will know.” Cody reaches for the box where he’d previously put the small amount of gold he’d need for his gift.

Boil shrugs his shoulders. “I know that the General is a smart man and he does know how to speak _Mando’a_. But how much does he know about Mandalorian traditions?”

“I think he knows more than you give him credit for, Boil,” Waxer says, pausing in the sharpening of the short blade. “The General says that language and culture are tightly connected so you can’t really learn one without also learning a lot about the other too. Even if he doesn’t know everything about Mandalorian courting, he will definitely understand things quickly.”

Boil doesn’t look too convinced. “If you say so,” he grumbles. “I guess, if all else fails, you could throw in a couple of Coruscanti courting stuff. I hear flowers are a big thing. You know, include some of the things from his own planet.”

Cody chuckles under his breath. “Obi-Wan is not from Coruscant. He was born on Stewjon.”

“Never heard of it.” Boil deadpans.

“What’s it like?” Waxer asks curiously.

“I have no idea.” Cody uses the gold to cover the letters previously engraved before pouring a clear liquid on top of it, making the gold fill in the grooves. “Apparently it’s a planet in the Outer Rim and it looks like Stewjoni like to be on their own. There’s not much to read on them.”

“That’s unfortunate, _vod_.” Waxer pats him lightly on the shoulders, going back to sharpening the blade.

Cody shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t see it that way. It’s just another thing we have in common. Neither of us thinks of the planet we were born on as home. We found that somewhere else.” The golden letters stare back at him when he surveys the final result of his efforts. He lays the guard of the vibro-blade on top of a burgundy red cloth he had previously prepared. “I am _Kote_ , I am a _Mando’ad_ and I will court him as such.”

“ _Oya_.” Boil lays the hilt of the vibro-blade next to the guard.

“ _Oya_.” Waxer adds the finely sharpened blade to the other parts.

The three of them stare at the disassembled weapon that sits between them, it’s importance a presence that fills the room. They’re simple pieces, the only materials Cody’s low income even as a Marshall Commander could afford. Yet they mean so much.

“Are you ready?” Waxer’s voice is soft.

“Last chance to turn back.” Boil says even though he knows already that his brother only wants to march forward.

Slowly, Cody reaches for each piece carefully laid out before him and starts assembling the vibro-blade. His brothers don’t talk, merely pass him the screws and tools he needs to make sure every component is safely assembled. As the weapon takes shape in his hands, Cody wonders at how far they’ve come. They came into this world as weapons to fight in a war that really isn’t theirs, treated like objects instead of people, disposed of as one would an old shirt.

Now they have names, they are _aliit_ , they belong to a General that knows their value and treats them like the men they are, and their General belongs to them. Including a nat-born into their midst (and not just any nat-born but a Jedi) seemed like an impossible thing just a few short months earlier. But it did happen. Cody is the one actually courting Obi-Wan, the one who wants to build a life with this wonderful man, but the 212th is the one that initially adopted their General and started treating him like another one of them.

As each piece of the vibro-blade slides into place, Cody feels his heart race until the moment the weapon is complete. Then he just feels a sense of calm and rightness settle over him. It looks perfect. The blade shines and the blue of the hilt is a perfect contrast to it. Cody slides his thumb over the hilt until he feels the cleverly hidden button that will turn on the weapon. From the corner of his eye, he sees Waxer and Boil lean forward.

Cody presses the button.

The weapon vibrates steadily in his hand, a gentle rhythm that travels up his arm. Cody wonders if this is what Obi-Wan feels when he grips his lightsaber. Obviously the two weapons are quite different, but maybe in this they are the same. The vibrating blade gives off a faint hum that Cody finds surprisingly pleasant to hear. It’s nothing like the low sound emitted by a lightsaber, this one is higher in pitch, less trembling. Feeling a shiver run up his spine, Cody can’t wait to hear how the vibro-blade and the lightsaber will sound together in Obi-Wan’s hands.

A warm hand covers his shoulder and Cody turns to look at Waxer.

“It looks beautiful, _vod_.”

“ _Vor’e,_ ” he murmurs.

In front of them, Boil shifts nervously. “Now you just need to find the right moment to give it to him.”

If Boil’s eyes look suspiciously wet, neither Cody nor Waxer say anything.

The right moment comes not too long after that day.

They are on Braitil, a desolate world made of silvery sand from which steep, rocky outcroppings stretch toward the sky at random intervals. Were it not for the fact that they have just spent three weeks fighting for their lives on this planet, Cody would say that Braitil is beautiful. The perennial night that encompasses the planet gives it a mysterious atmosphere while the three white moons that dominate the sky pour their reflected light on the endless sea of sand. The light breeze that almost never quietens makes the sand dunes ripple and move, giving off the impression of looking at an actual sea instead of sand.

It’s the beauty of a wild and dangerous world where only the strongest creatures can survive.

 _Or the clever ones_ , Cody thinks observing a lizard-like creature burrow under the sand, ready to wait for its prey to come too close.

He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with cool air. His brothers’ voices reach his ears, not too far behind him. Cody half-turns to see how they’re faring. The camp they’re staying in as they wait for their transports to come pick them up has been set up, gray tents dotting the valley they’ve claimed as their own. In the middle of all the tents, his _vode_ have built a huge bonfire that looks absolutely stunning what with the wood they’ve gathered on this planet burning in purple flames instead of orange and red.

All in all, the mood is light. They’ve had a few close-calls but miraculously, in three weeks of combat, they’ve managed not to lose a single man. That alone is cause for celebration. The men look rugged, armors stained and cracked in dire need of a new paint-job, and more than one trooper sports a cast or a bandage, but they’re all alive and that makes Cody’s chest fill with so much love and pride as he looks at them.

Wooley and Longshot emerge from a bigger tent near the bonfire, General Kenobi following silently behind them. Cody’s heart stutters in his chest as he observes the careful gait his Jedi sports. He favors his left leg slightly and every now and then he presses a hand to his ribs with a small pained smile.

Longshot and Wooley accompany their General to a log purposefully put close to the bonfire. They help him sit down next to Singer and leave him there so they can go fetch something to eat. Singer moves immediately closer to Obi-Wan, practically vibrating next to the man as he proudly shows off his painted armor. The _vode_ had managed to scrounge up some gold paint for their shiny before embarking on this mission, and Singer had immediately decorated his armor with golden streaks and musical notes in a melody that runs across his armor from feet to head. Even from afar, Cody notices how the paint is already scratched, but nothing dampens Singer’s pride as he preens for Obi-Wan.

Cody lowers his gaze to the burgundy cloth he holds in his hand. It burns in his grip, a faint hum echoing in his ears.

It’s time.

There’s no nervousness inside him as he slowly walks toward Obi-Wan. He feels nothing but calm, his heart beats steady in his chest. He doesn’t fear rejection nor scorn. They have never explicitly talked about what Cody knows both of them feel between them, but he doesn’t think it’s conceited of him to believe that there is interest in Obi-Wan’s eyes when they meet his. True, he’s never seen lust in his Jedi’s eyes, but he has seen interest. More than that, he has seen awareness in Obi-Wan, a subtle shift every time Cody enters a room, a softening of his voice, a shuffling closer than strictly necessary for a Commander and a General.

If he’s learned anything during his time under Obi-Wan Kenobi’s command, is that his Jedi is a private person. He’s not as expansive in his affection as the _vode_ are. With him, one has to look for the subtle touches, the inflection of his voice as he speaks. Cody’s fine with that, he doesn’t need big gestures. Obi-Wan’s steady, soothing affection is all he needs or wants.

Cody is close enough now to hear Singer’s excited babble over the loud crackling of the bonfire.

“I painted all of it by myself,” he’s saying, hands gesturing wildly at his armor. “Well, Singed helped a little. But the idea was mine.”

Obi-Wan nods along and smiles in thanks when Longshot hands him a plate heaped with food. Cody locks eyes with his brother, silently thanking him for the caring gesture.

“Do tell me, did you paint a specific song or are they random notes? I’m terribly sorry, I’m not an expert in music.”

Cody snorts under his breath. Singer is going to have a heart-attack if he doesn’t get a hold of himself.

“It’s the _Vode An_ , the first song the Template, uh, Jango Fett taught us.” He stumbles a little when Obi-Wan frowns at the word ‘Template’. “To be honest, he taught it to the first brothers but they taught it to us too. It’s the first song I ever heard, sir.”

Obi-Wan hums around a mouthful of food before speaking. “ _Kandosii sa kar’ta, Vode An. Coruscanta a’den mhi, Vode An_.”

Singer gasps, some of the brothers closer to them echoing the sound, at the way their General softly hums a song so dear to them. Cody wonders if he’ll ever stop marveling at everything Obi-Wan does, preying immediately to _Manda_ and the Force for it never to happen.

“You know the song,” Singer forces the words out of his mouth through the knot in his throat. Cody has no doubt that the shiny, by now, is madly in love with his General. He doesn’t blame him, but the kid will soon realize what his place has to be.

“You men sing it often enough. It was easy picking it up.” Obi-Wan says nonchalantly, looking up when he notices Cody getting closer.

Longshot and Wooley appear at Singer’s side, tapping on the shiny’s shoulders and signing for him to leave the General alone. Singer frowns at them, reluctant to leave but not seeing any way for him to go against an order from two superior officers. He looks up at Cody, body going rigid at the way the Commander is staring down at him as he stops in front of the General.

Singer hums nervously to himself, snaps a quick salute to the General, and rapidly disappears, slowly followed by Longshot and Wooley.

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan murmurs, watching the troopers leave. “I must be a terrible singer to make the men flee like that.”

Cody chuckles and kneels in front of his Jedi, “The boy is in love with you, I doubt there’s anything you could do to make him flee.” Does Obi-Wan not realize the effect he has on those around him?

Obi-Wan turns to look at him, waving away his words with a, “Oh, don’t be absurd.” He stabs a piece of vegetable and stuffs it in his mouth, muttering about absurd Commanders.

Cody remains kneeling, left arm comfortably resting on his bent knee. “How do you feel, Obi-Wan?”

His Jedi’s eyes snap immediately to his at the casual use of his name. Normally, Cody wouldn’t dare be so informal in front of his men, both because he knows Obi-Wan’s dislike of being the center of attention, and because Cody knows he’s the only one who has the privilege of saying that name out loud, a privilege he intends to guard jealously.

Unfortunately, Mandalorian courting traditions state clearly that the first gift has to be given in public. The rest of the courtship, if so wished, can be a private affair between the interested parties, but that first gift, that claim, has to be bold and in front of many witnesses.

Cody wants to avoid any misunderstanding and make it clear to Obi-Wan that he’s not kneeling in front of his Jedi as a concerned Commander.

Obi-Wan clearly knows something’s up, if the rigid set of his shoulders is anything to go by. Nonetheless, he is a consummated Jedi Master, and thus quickly hides any insecurity behind an easy smile.

“You worry too much,” he says. “I’m doing perfectly fine, even Bones says so.”

Cody seriously doubts that. The loud clearing of voice somewhere behind him states clearly that Bones himself doesn’t agree with Obi-Wan.

“You were limping,” Cody presses forward. “I saw you pressing a hand to your ribs.”

Obi-Wan sets his plate aside and focuses entirely on Cody, “It’s nothing, Cody.”

“Obi-Wan…”

“It isn’t.” Obi-Wan holds up a hand to forestall any word coming out of Cody’s mouth. “Tonight I will put myself in a light healing trance and tomorrow I will be good as new.”

Cody grits his teeth because this is what he most loves and hates about his Jedi in equal measure. Obi-Wan, for all that he doesn’t like to think of himself in such terms, is a great warrior more than capable of taking care of himself on the battlefield. He’s also completely willing to disregard his health when outside of it. It’s incomprehensible to Cody who has been witness to many dressing downs for General Skywalker where Obi-Wan accused his former Padawan of doing exactly what Kenobi does on a regular basis.

Cody doesn’t want to insult Obi-Wan by implying that he needs someone to watch out for him, but he does want for him to stop putting himself last every time.

It’s a thin line to walk.

Cody takes a deep breath and decides to speak from his heart, knowing Obi-Wan won’t begrudge him for his feelings. “We can take care of ourselves, Obi-Wan. I am grateful that you see us as men and not flesh-droids, that you would deem us worthy to put yourself at risk to protect us. But we are your men, we are meant to be your back-up. More than that, we are proud warriors, capable of fighting at your side, protecting you and guarding your back. We don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself because of us. We don’t want to fail you like that.” He stares deeply into Obi-Wan’s eyes, “ _I_ don’t want to fail you like that. I wouldn’t know how to live with myself.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes are wide, the flames roaring behind Cody shine deep in those blue-gray pools. The purple light from the bonfire so bright that it dyes Obi-Wan’s hair to a deeper red than usual. It’s a color that usually reminds Cody of the expensive wine he’s seen Senators drink during the monthly fund-raising that were nothing more than an excuse to dance and chat and strike deals under the table, while Cody and his brothers die on some half-forgotten planet a galaxy away.

Tonight, it reminds Cody of the cloth that conceals the weapon he lovingly crafted for his intended. A gift he hopes is worthy of a Jedi Master.

In a smooth movement he practiced hundreds of times until he felt he could do it blindfolded, Cody raises the hand holding the vibro-blade and brings the weapon to rest still across his two hands, high enough that all Obi-Wan needs to do is stretch out his hand and wrap his fingers around it.

“I ask that you take care to defend yourself so that you can come back to me,” he speaks the traditional words the Template taught him. “This is a weapon I made for you so that you always have a last defense with you. It would honor me if you would accept it and use it to preserve your life.”

Around them, Cody’s brothers are silent. All of them are paying close attention to what is happening, their eyes fixed now on their Commander, now on their General. They all know what those words mean, they understand their weight and all of them wait with bated breath to see if their General will accept their Commander’s request to formally court him.

Obi-Wan eyes the weapon with an inscrutable expression on his face. His eyes flint around him, taking in the men standing still, not a single trooper pretending to be doing anything else but observe what is happening. Cody can see how tense he is under the laser-like focus displayed by his troopers, but this is how it is to happen. Cody cannot lower his arms until Obi-Wan accepts his gift. To do so, would mean to accept that his offer has been refused.

Cody forces himself to remain calm and reminds himself that he has nothing to fear.

His Jedi seems to shake himself out of the contemplative mood he’d fallen into. Cody’s eyes zero-in on Obi-Wan’s hands as the Jedi grips the cloth-covered vibro-blade in the middle and slides it into his lap.

Cody’s heart leaps into his chest and he lowers his arms. He keeps his expression schooled, for Obi-Wan still has to say anything, but allows a tiny glimmer of hope to bloom inside him.

With slow movements, Obi-Wan unwraps the vibro-blade and carefully folds the cloth, laying it down at his side. He runs a hand over the smooth dark-blue leather of the sheathe until the pads of his fingers find the grooves of the golden letters engraved in the guard of the weapon. He traces each letter with his eyes, lips moving to form the word they spell in a silent exhale.

He looks up at Cody and the Commander thinks there’s amazement in those blue-gray eyes, a hint of fear as well.

“ _Atin_?” Obi-Wan asks.

Cody smiles cunningly at his Jedi. “If you were to be described by a single word, I feel this one would be the most appropriate.”

“Stubborn?” The humor creeping into his question has Cody smile wider in relief.

“You can’t deny General Skywalker took after you in that department,” Cody teases him lightly before answering seriously. “In truth, I was thinking more about the word ‘tenacious’ to describe you. You are a solid and firm presence in my life, Obi-Wan. As a Jedi, I see you as dedicated to your Order and to the Force with unshakable faith. As a man, I see you capable of persevering through any hardship, unyielding and resolute in your duty,” he licks his suddenly dry lips before summoning the courage to finish. “Constant, attentive and devoted in your affections to others.”

Obi-Wan sucks in a breath, hand clenching tightly on the hilt of the vibro-blade. His eyes slide closed and he exhales slowly through his nose. Cody doesn’t know if the reaction is due to his Jedi being surprised by his candor or by the fact that with his words, Cody is making both of them vulnerable in front of so many people. All the same, he reaches out and covers Obi-Wan’s knee with a hand, squeezing lightly to help ground his Jedi.

The grip on the vibro-blade relaxes, eyes open once again and lock with Cody’s brown ones. For a long moment, Obi-Wan looks deep into Cody’s eyes, searching for something the Commander hopes he’ll be able to find if it means it’ll lead to them being together.

Obi-Wan covers Cody’s hand on his knee, lightly gripping it before standing up in front of his Commander. Cody remains immobile save for the slight craning of his neck so that he can keep gazing at Obi-Wan. The hand he’d laid on his Jedi’s knee, slides down until his fingers encircle the other man’s ankle. Cody had once noticed how Obi-Wan preferred to keep his touches short. Now the Jedi says nothing and Cody greedily takes advantage of every second of physical contact that is granted to him, no matter how small.

His Jedi’s grip changes on the vibro-blade and a moment later, the blade slides free with a soft sound. Obi-Wan holds it high, letting the purple light from the fire shine on the smooth surface of the sharp blade. Waxer really did an amazing job sharpening it. The blade looks almost liquid it is so smooth. When Obi-Wan presses the small button to turn on the weapon, Cody feels the gentle, high hum of the blade deep within his bones.

Obi-Wan waves the vibro-blade around in a series of movements not unlike those he uses to wield his lightsaber. The blade cuts through the air with a satisfying whistle-like sound.

“You said you made this yourself.” Obi-Wan speaks softly.

Cody nods, not saying a word.

“As a Jedi, I am not supposed to accept gifts from anyone.” The softly spoken words almost undo Cody right where he kneels.

The Commander swallows against the knot forming in his throat. “It is your right to refuse my gift. I would never force my attention on you against your will.” It would break his heart, but if Obi-Wan asked him to desist, Cody would do so without question.

Obi-Wan sheathes the vibro-blade and lowers his gaze to the simple brown belt cinching his waist. He slides a pouch backward to make a little bit of space on the crowded leather. With a quick movement of his thumb, Obi-Wan opens the latch on the back of the vibro-blade’s sheath and secures the weapon to his belt on the side opposite his lightsaber. The _click_ of the latch sliding into place makes Cody, and all his _vode_ , finally relax.

“I can make an exception for once.” Obi-Wan’s words ring loud and clear. “I can’t say that I will always be receptive to what you are doing, Cody.” Obi-Wan speaks tentatively, with the sort of hesitation that no one ever expects from him. “But I want you to know that I hear you, Cody.”

It’s not exactly the accepting declaration many would have expected or wanted, but it’s fine. Cody can work with this, indeed he’s eager to prove himself worthy of his _Jetii_. Mandalorian courting is made of effort and perseverance, a balancing act of making oneself desirable and conquering one’s intended love. Cody doesn’t want Obi-Wan to fall to his knees and declare his undying love to him, he wants to show the other man that Cody is a worthy mate and warrior. A life-partner that respects who Obi-Wan is and that will be capable of walking by his side into whatever the future holds in store for them.

Cody is sure he has never smiled so brightly in his life as he says, “I only ask that you let me try.”

The answering nod from Obi-Wan is worth a thousand words.

Things are not going the way they should.

Scratch that, things are a _karking_ mess right about now.

As he trudges through the dense jungle of Yssis with the unconscious bodies of General Skywalker slung over his shoulder and Commander Tano laid on a wood-board harnessed to his torso, Cody hisses every curse word he knows in _Mando’a_.

He keeps his eyes peeled for any trace of the Consul’s soldiers running after them. He’s painfully aware that dragging Commander Tano behind him like this is leaving traces of their passing so obvious he wants to scream, but there is no other way for them to proceed. He can’t carry both _Jetiise_ and he certainly can’t leave one of them behind.

Cody’s lungs are burning with the effort to keep moving on, the muscles on his legs tremble with every step forward and his back, at this point, is just a mass of painful knots. He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking but he’s sure hours have passed since their disastrous banquet with the Consul and her Ministers. They need to find shelter and soon.

“Come on, _Kote_. This is just a regular mission for the 212th. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

He doesn’t know who he’s trying to fool, but saying those words out loud helps him pretend everything is alright.

Not long after sunset, Cody spots the entrance of a cave carved into the side of an outcropping. The dense vegetation hides it well enough that it’s truly a stroke of luck he even noticed it in the first place. The soldiers following them (he feels it’s safe to believe they _are_ still being followed) know the terrain better so Cody can’t do much but rely on luck being on their side for once. Judging by how the mission is going, Cody doesn’t put much stock in that.

When he stops at the mouth of the cave, he realizes that it’s more an indentation into the side of the outcropping than a cave. Still, it will have to be enough.

Cody lays down General Skywalker, carefully avoiding banging his head on the rocky ground. After that, he lays Commander Tano next to her Master. He needs to check both of their vitals to make sure they’re not harmed, but first he needs to try and erase some of the traces left behind by Tano’s makeshift stretcher. The mere thought of going outside makes Cody feel nauseous. There is no alternative, however, so Cody does what he has to do.

Thirty minutes later, he’s back to the cave and he can check on the conditions of the two Jedi.

Both of them had crumpled to the ground when the Yssis had attacked them with their gas-emitting weapons. Cody isn’t sure what that gas was, but the steady beating of the _Jetiise_ ’s hearts reassures him that whatever it was, it was not a mortal gas. Hopefully. Cody has probably been spared from their same fate simply because he was wearing his helmet. The built-in filtration system is pretty basic, so Cody is a little surprised by how effective it has been this time.

When the two Jedi had fallen to the ground they had both banged their heads, so the next thing Cody does is check there. There’s a small bump on the back of Skywalker’s head and Cody hopes the swelling is not hiding a more serious problem underneath. Alpha-17 made sure all CC clones knew the basic first-aid, but Cody is no medic. He’s going to ask Bones for some more in-depth lessons. And on that same note, he’s going to study more on Togruta’s anatomy because he has no idea if what he’s feeling is normal or not. Commander Tano’s montrals feel both soft and hard at the same time and Cody can’t tell whether there are bumps in there or not.

He sits back on his heels and sighs, mentally planning the next things to do.

Going outside now would be suicide, so settling down for the night is the only option. He can’t light a fire unless he wants any pursuer to find them, and he doesn’t have any covers to provide warmth for either of the Jedi. It’s a stroke of luck that the temperature hasn’t dropped with the setting of the sun.

Cody has some highly energetic ration bars with him so at least they won’t die of hunger, and he has seen a river not too far from where they are. All Cody can do know, is settle in and guard the two unconscious Jedi, waiting for someone from the 212th  or the 501st  to find them. He has no doubt they’re looking for them. The moment he had escaped with the two Jedi, Cody had activated the comm-signal that would let the 212th  know he needed urgent help. Plus, Cody knows Rex and the Captain would turn the entire planet upside-down to find Commander Tano and General Skywalker.

With these thoughts in mind, Cody hunkers down and prepares to guard the Jedi through the night.

As he keeps his eyes peeled, his mind immediately wanders to Obi-Wan. His Jedi hadn’t inhaled the gas (he had been too distant), but he had been cornered by the Consul’s soldiers together with Rex and an assortment of men from the 212th  and the 501st . Cody is sure Obi-Wan is safe and sound, his Jedi is a force to be reckoned with in any occasion so he knows he has nothing to worry about.

He thinks back to the thrill of seeing Obi-Wan with the vibro-blade secured to his belt and the pride he’d felt burning in his chest when his _vode_ had noticed and put two and two together. Obi-Wan had redirected the attention elsewhere when Skywalker and Tano had asked about it, and Cody understood and was okay with that. It was all so new and Obi-Wan still wasn’t sure about Cody courting him. Cody much preferred to keep things under wraps instead of assaulting his Jedi with a barrage of questions he still didn’t want to answer.

It didn’t mean Cody planned to stop his courting.

All things considered, Cody at the moment is in the right position to keep on showing his intended all the qualities that make him a perfect mate.

Mandalorians value their _aliit_ more than anything _._ Showing that you can protect not only your _aliit_ but that of your intended as well is one of the key factors in Mandalorian courting. Whether Obi-Wan is aware of that or not, his Jedi has already proven that he can take care of and defend Cody’s brothers. This time, Cody has the chance to show Obi-Wan that he can do the same.

The relationships among the Jedi confuse Cody who is used to having millions of brothers all over the Galaxy. He is, however, sure that the bond between Master and Padawan is probably the closest relationship to be had among Jedi. Cody has seen the way Obi-Wan looks at Skywalker and it reminds him of the relationship he has with Rex and his other younger brothers. That mix of fond exasperation mixed with the instinct to care and protect that never really goes away no matter how much time passes. Sometimes, Obi-Wan seems to be more of a _buir_ than and _ori’vod_ , but the age difference between him and Skywalker is too little for it to be like that, so his Jedi finds himself oscillating between the two roles.

Commander Tano is much easier to place. Cody doesn’t have a _ba’buir_ but he knows what that figure is supposed to represent. The tenderness he constantly witnesses in Obi-Wan’s eyes when he looks at Commander Tano is enough to bring Cody to his knees. Obi-Wan is so good with the little ones and there’s nothing more attractive than that for a _Mando’ad_.

The memory of his Jedi pinning him to the ground and speaking in _Mando’a_ makes Cody consider that perhaps there is something more attractive.

Cody glances over his shoulders at the two Jedi. They haven’t moved a muscle but he can see the steady rise and fall of their chests so he doesn’t worry for the moment.

Cody frowns as he looks at General Skywalker. In the privacy of his own mind, here on a hostile planet alone without back-up, Cody can admit that for all that he likes Commander Tano just fine, he really doesn’t like Skywalker at all.

It’s not something he would ever allow himself to say out loud, and not just because it would hurt both Obi-Wan and Rex. An army works because the chain of command is respected, no matter the personal opinion of its officers. Cody, technically speaking, outranks most Generals, Skywalker included but due to Skywalker being Kenobi’s former Padawan, the lines between them blur. It’s much safer for Cody to say nothing and run damage control when required.

Cody can admit that Skywalker is an excellent soldier and a General who cares for his troops. But he is reckless. Too reckless. Most of the time, Skywalker’s bets paid off and he was able to complete the mission and save the day, but Cody has nightmares dreading the day his recklessness would result in the death of Rex or any other of his brothers. Cody can appreciate the fact that Skywalker doesn’t put his men in danger on purpose, but that won’t matter when things would eventually go wrong. Skywalker sometimes seemed to forget that his men, and his Padawan, were not like him.

Cody doesn’t know much about Jedi Prophecies and the likes, but he’s heard Obi-Wan mention Skywalker being the Chosen One too many times to forget that detail. Obi-Wan once mentioned Skywalker being a supernova in the Force. That might not mean much to him, a force-null clone, but he’d gathered that General Skywalker was a different kind of Jedi.

Cody’s afraid one day, without thinking about how fragile other people are when compared to him, Skywalker would be the end of all of them.

The more professional side of Cody can’t stand the insubordination and, worst of all, the lack of respect for his former Master.

The mess they are in now is entirely Skywalker’s fault, Cody refuses to not say it like it is. If the man had read the report on Yssis or better yet, if he had listened when Obi-Wan had then summarized that report just for him, Skywalker would have known to curb his abhorrent appetite for crawling, squirming creatures thus avoiding eating the Consul’s pets.

Obi-Wan might not like being called the Negotiator, but there is no denying he has a mind and a tongue for politics and diplomacy. Cody can’t believe that Skywalker who’s been Obi-Wan’s apprentice for more than ten years, has learned nothing when it comes to respecting other people’s cultures and social habits. His had to be willful ignorance and disregard for his Master’s teachings.

Cody just can’t abide that.

Still, Skywalker is Obi-Wan’s _aliit_ which means he is one of Cody’s now as well. Nothing to do about that.

The sound of a twig breaking under pressure, wrenches Cody out of his thoughts.

Keeping his eyes in the direction the sound came from, Cody steps away from the cave, keeping low on the ground. If someone has found them, he doesn’t want to fight them so close to the two unconscious Jedi. Armed with only his blaster and a couple of grenades secured to his belt, Cody can’t risk the Consul’s soldiers taking the Jedi as hostages, nor can he confront them head on.

He’s maybe thirty feet away from the cave when the first soldier springs out of the dense jungle, wicked-looking knife in hand. Cody manages to side-step in time to avoid a knife to the stomach, and brings his arms up to slam the butt of his rifle to the side of the soldier’s face. His assailant crumples to ground and immediately another soldier takes his place. Cody swears under his breath and takes aim at the new attacker, his plan of dealing with the enemy soldiers quietly to avoid attracting attention gone up in smoke if the sound of approaching footsteps is anything to go by.

He shoots the soldier right in front of him in the chest and takes off in the direction of the cave. There are too many enemies, he can’t possibly take them on one-on-one like this. His best bet is to mount up a resistance by the cave, shooting down any enemy who even dares to look at it the wrong way.

A sudden movement to his right alerts Cody of an approaching enemy, barely a couple of seconds before a massive body barrels straight into his side. He falls to the ground with the scaly body of his assailant weighing down on him, cutting his breath off. His blaster rifle is stuck between their bodies, pressing down on his chest. He sees the flash of claws descending towards his face. With a violent tug, Cody manages to raise his blaster high enough to intercept the claws that would have pierced right through his helmet, the tips now only scratching the left side of it.

The two scramble on the ground, each trying to overpower the other. Freeing his right hand, Cody manages to hook his fingers on the handle of the knife he hides in his boot, unsheathing it and driving it straight into the side of his enemy. The Yssis soldier yells in pain as Cody keeps on driving his blade into scaly flesh. Cody shoves his opponent off of himself and finishes him with a quick and precise swipe of his blade over the soldier’s throat.

He allows himself a second to catch his breath and sheathe the knife back in his booth, before darting off in the direction of the cave. He arrives not a moment too soon. Two Yssis soldiers are entering the cave and Cody doesn’t waste any time taking aim and dropping the two to the ground with well-placed shots. He keeps running toward the cave and once there, he sees a third soldier inside. Cody shots him in the head with no hesitation.

He turns around and dreads pools in his chest at the sight of six Yssis soldiers slowly crawling out of the jungle.

Cody takes a slow breath, steadying his nerves and analyzing the situation. He’s lucky in that none of the soldiers have blasters on them, only knives and short swords. He can’t see the strange gas-emitting weapon on them that they’d use to incapacitate the Jedi, though it doesn’t mean they don’t have it. They are wearing a light, leather armor that allows them to move faster than him but leaves plenty of places without proper protection.

If Obi-Wan was here, Cody knows the Jedi would be trying to talk things through and maybe avoid any further bloodshed. The way those soldiers eye him and take menacing small steps forward, he is pretty sure they don’t intend to listen to anything he has to say.

Cody adjusts his grip on his blaster and prepares himself for what’s to come.

A soldier to his right lunges forward with a loud hiss and immediately drops dead to the ground as Cody shots him. A knife cuts through the air and strikes with enough force behind it to knock his blaster out of his hands. Cody doesn’t even try to pick up the rifle, reaching instead to grab one of the grenades on his belt and activate it. With a precise toss, he lands the grenade right in front of three of the soldiers running towards him. The grenade explodes, killing one soldier and severely wounding the others. Cody takes advantage of the moment of chaos to spring forward and meet head-on the soldier that’s coming at him with a short sword in hand.

Cody knows nothing of the Yssis as a species, but they look humanoid enough to him. So when the soldier lounges forward in a forward-thrust he’s seen Obi-Wan use more than once, he doesn’t hesitate in clamping a hand on the soldier’s wrist and twist with every bit of strength he has. The resounding _snap_ of the soldier’s wrist breaking brings a smile to Cody’s face.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the remaining two soldiers going around them to reach the cave where General Skywalker and Commander Tano lie defenseless. Cody makes a split decision and snatches the knife from the loose grip of the soldier that’s struggling to get away from him. Gripping the knife from the blade, Cody turns around and throws it at the soldier closest to him, watching as the knife buries itself into the soldier’s throat. The other soldier jumps back, momentarily confused by the sudden death of his companion.

A searing pain spreading from his side makes Cody turn back to the soldier still in his grip. While he’d been turned away, the Yssis soldier decided to use his claws to get himself out of the situation. Cody grits his teeth and looks down at the four claws that went through his armor like it was air. He grabs the soldier’s arm and slowly forces it back, blood immediately seeping through the cracks in his armor as the claws leave his flesh. A punch straight to the chest is enough to get the Yssis off of him, though not enough to incapacitate him.

Cody slaps a hand over his wound and scrambles to get to his rifle, abandoned not far from him. He can already hear the hissing sounds from the soldier coming after him from behind, but he trudges forward until he manages to close his hand around the barrel of his blaster. In a move he’s done so many times it’s now natural, he points the barrel of the blaster at the soldier behind him and shoots, finishing his opponent.

He remains kneeling on the ground for a moment, breathing heavily. Blood keeps flowing from the wound on his side, but Cody is much more concerned by the fact that it’s starting to burn. He really hopes there’s no venom in the claws, he has nothing on him that can counteract that.

With a jolt, he realizes that there’s still one soldier alive and kicking. Heart in his throat, Cody stands back up and, as quickly as he can, he moves toward the cave. He curses himself every step because he’s lost so much time and surely now Skywalker and Tano are both dead and Obi-Wan is never going to forgive him and how is Cody going to look Rex in the eye…

The scene that greets him as he stands at the mouth of the cave is one he will never forget.

The Yssis soldier is kneeling over Skywalker, knife posed over his heart. Skywalker, barely awake, has his hands around the soldier’s wrist, the little strength he managed to summon the only thing keeping him alive at the moment. Commander Tano, in the meanwhile, is slowly sitting up, hand reaching for her lightsaber to save her Master.

“Hey!” Cody shouts from where he stands.

The Yssis soldier looks up when Cody shouts and the Commander starts panicking because he can’t do anything. The burning feeling emanating from his wound has now spread to his side. The fingers of his right hand are numb, making it next to impossible for him to raise his blaster and do something.

In the end, it’s Commander Tano that solves the problem. The momentary distraction provided by Cody is all she needs to draw her lightsaber and strike the enemy soldier. The green beam of light from her lightsaber pierces the soldier right through his heart and General Skywalker shoves the body away from him with the last of his strength.

“Snips…” he pants.

“I got you, Skyguy.” Commander Tano’s whispered reply is filled with relief.

Cody falls down on his knees, the adrenaline from the fight leaving him. The blaster slides from his unresponsive fingers and clutters to the ground with a resounding _thud_. He brings a trembling hand to his head, sliding off the helmet that seems to weight more than usual and doesn’t allow him to breathe. He gasps for breath as he falls to the floor, his vision going dark at the sides.

The last thing he hears before darkness claims him is someone from afar shouting his name.

Cody wakes up in the med-bay of the _Negotiator_ and the first thing he sees is Bones at his bedside, checking his vitals on various monitors.

“Good, you woke up.” Bones turns toward him with a small smile.

“What happened?” is what Cody wants to say, but all that comes out of his mouth is a pitiful groan interrupted by dry coughing.

Bones moves out of his view, reappearing a moment later with a glass of water in hand. He presses a button on the side of the bed to raise the bed and help Cody sit up straighter. Cody’s attempt to take the glass and drink without help doesn’t go well, nearly half the content getting spilled over his lap. A fierce look from Bones when he comes back with another glass of water convinces him to sit still and do as he’s told.

Once his parched throat has been soothed, Cody attempts to speak once again.

“What happened?”

Bones puts the glass down on the bedside table and grabs a datapad to keep on checking Cody’s vitals. “You gave us a scare, Commander. Apparently, Yssis claws posses a natural poison they inoculate to their victims. It’s not deadly, but it did leave you unconscious and paralyzed for two days. I was more concerned by the blood-loss. Thankfully, our General and Captain Rex got to you in time to see you fall down on your _shebs_.”

Cody glares at Bones but the medic just shrugs the look off.

“I have to say, not your best performance, _vod_.” Bones scolds him with a frown. “Though your saving of General Skywalker and Commander Tano apparently more than made up for that. General Kenobi seemed thoroughly impressed with you.” There’s a saucy grin splitting Bones’ face in half, the kind of grin Cody really wishes he could avoid being subjected to.

“So the General and the Commander are alright?” He tries to steer the conversation elsewhere, ignoring the way his heart is almost beating out of his chest at the thought of Obi-Wan appreciating what he’s done.

“Yeah, yeah, they’re fine,” Bones waves away his concern with a nonchalance really not suited for a medic speaking of his patients. “You need to focus on our General, _vod_. I’m telling you he was impressed. Once he knew Skywalker and Tano were alright, he spent nearly the entire time here with you. I had to send the _di’kut_ away, at a certain point.”

“He did?” Cody asks, sneaking a glance at his brother from the corner of his eye.

Bones nods emphatically. “It’s safe to say logging around Skywalker and Tano and then killing a bunch of soldiers to protect the two, hit all the right places with the General.”

“I didn’t kill ‘a bunch’ of soldiers,” Cody murmurs under his breath. This was spectacular news.

“Details. You need to capitalize on this, Commander.” Bones is pretty invested in the situation. “I already commed the General. He should be here any moment.”

As if summoned by his words, the doors of the med-bay slide open and in comes Obi-Wan. He’s slightly disheveled, tired eyes searching immediately for Cody. The rigid set of his shoulders immediately loosens when he sees the Commander awake and alert. He walks slowly to Cody’s bedside, taking the spot Bones has kindly vacated for him. The medic disappears in a corner of the med-bay, close enough to be of help if needed but far enough to give his superior officers the illusion of privacy.

Obi-Wan shifts on the spot, hands hidden in the ample sleeves of his robe. “You seem to be doing alright.”

“It takes more than a bit of venom to get rid of me,” Cody puffs his chest out, trying to cheer Obi-Wan up. He really doesn’t like to worry his Jedi like this.

A small smile appears on Obi-Wan’s face. “I should have known that. If anyone could get out of that situation alive, with two unconscious Jedi to protect, it would be you.”

Cody feels warmth spread on his cheeks and thanks his darker skin for probably hiding the reaction. Since he’s not expansive in his affection, any praise coming from Obi-Wan always means a lot. Cody can’t help but feel confident that his affection is being returned when his Jedi speaks to him like that.

“Just doing my duty,” Cody says, hoping to make Obi-Wan lower his guard with the professional statement.

Obi-Wan’s hands make an appearance from their hiding spot under the soft folds of the Jedi’s robes, going to rest placidly in Obi-Wan’s lap as he looks deeply into Cody’s eyes with such a soft expression that enraptures the Commander.

“Thank you, Cody.” Three simple words that make him dizzy with affection. “You kept them safe even though it led to you been hurt. I don’t know how to repay you.”

Cody leans forward, ignoring the painful sting of his wound, and with a deliberately slow movement takes one of Obi-Wan’s hand in his own. He feels the Jedi momentarily tense, but he doesn’t pull away from the touch.

“They are your _aliit_.” He gently squeezes the hand in his. “It is my duty to you, Obi-Wan, to make sure they are safe. I swear to you that no harm will come to them, as long as I am breathing.”

He threads their fingers together and his chest tightens because nothing, not even the instinctual grip around the blaster rifle he’s had all his life, has ever felt as perfect as the way their hands slot together perfectly.

Cody tugs gently Obi-Wan’s hand until he can press his lips to his knuckles in a kiss so tender it belongs to the holo-series his brother Wooley pretends he doesn’t watch. The reddening of Obi-Wan’s cheeks is the greatest reward Cody could ever have hoped for. The dusting of freckles across his cheekbones and nose quickly becomes one of Cody’s favorite sights.

The hand in his twitches and squeezes back, and Cody allows a smile to stretch on his lips while keeping contact with Obi-Wan’s surprisingly soft skin. He pointedly ignore Bones in the background miming a slow clap of hands while mouthing ‘smooth’ at him.

With a final squeeze, Cody leans back, letting their joined hands rest over his chest.

Obi-Wan peers at him through thick lashes. There’s something tentative in his gaze that makes Cody hold his breath, waiting for his Jedi to speak.

“Your armor got damaged.”

It’s not what Cody was expecting to hear.

“A small price to pay. Plus, I can always fix it.”

Obi-Wan nods. “The men tell me there are solutions one can use to repair minor damages.” His eyes lower to their hands on Cody’s chest. His Jedi looks back into his eyes. “Perhaps I could help you with that.”

Cody presses their entwined hands harder into his chest and he’s sure Obi-Wan can feel the way his heart is pounding rapidly in his chest.

He must know. Obi-Wan must know what he’s offering right now. The intimacy, the meaning behind wanting to help fix his armor. For a _Mando’ad_ nothing is more important than their armor. For the _vode_ it’s even more important because it’s not just protection during battle, it’s the first possession they truly had. It’s not made of _beskar_ and it’s not passed down into their _aliit_ , but it’s theirs. It’s what identifies them. They all look the same and yet in the entire GAR there are no two sets of armor with an identical pattern.

Ignoring the way Bones gapes at them from his station, Cody answers in the way any _Mando’ad_ would answer to another warrior wanting to tend for his armor.

“You honor me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manda'yaim - The name of the planet Mandalore in Mandalorian  
> Vor'e - "Thanks"  
> Vode An - "Brothers All", it's a song that Jango Fett taught to the clones on Kamino  
> Kandosii sa kar’ta, Vode An. Coruscanta a’den mhi, Vode An - "One indomitable heart, Brothers all. We, the wrath of Coruscant, Brothers all". It's a line from the Vode An  
> Manda - It's not exactly a God or an Afterlife. It's a collective state of being Mandalorian, like an oversoul. Once a Mandalorian dies, if they had been a 'good' Mandalorian, they became part of Manda.  
> Atin - "Stubborn" but also "tenacious" or "someone capable of endurance"  
> Ba'buir - "Grandfather/Grandmother"  
> Shebs - "Buttocks"  
> Beskar - Mandalorian iron


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Courting continues and it's glorious!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, this was a fun chapter to write though I did struggle a bit at the beginning. Anyways, more Courting for all of you amazing readers of mine! 
> 
> Seriously, though, you guys know you're amazing right? The amount of love I'm receiving from you is humbling.
> 
> PS: you will notice that I refer to things existing in the Legends Canon which is different from the Disney Canon we're now in. While I don't necessarily like or agree with some things in Legends, there are things I enjoy in it, so those I decided to use. I'm a fic writer so I get to do whatever I want with Canon, right?

Cody knows one thing to be true. Medics are some of the worst gossips in the GAR, and Bones has to be the worst of them all. Oh, he respects doctor-patient confidentiality like his life depends on it, but when it comes to anything else regarding the 7th Sky Corps, and the 212th in particular, there’s nothing he doesn’t know and isn’t willing to share with his brothers.

Walking through the corridors of the _Negotiator_ , Cody has no way of avoiding the knowing stares his _vode_ throw his way. The shinies do their best to avoid eye-contact, but the more experienced soldiers, the ones who knew Cody since Kamino, they do not shy away from staring at him. Some even smirk and wink at him. It doesn’t bother him, though Cody makes a mental note to tell all the officers to dial down their blatant interest in the Courting, lest they make Obi-Wan feel uncomfortable.

Truth be told, Cody feels bolstered by the stares.

Tending to your intended’s armor is one of the most important steps to take during Courting. That Obi-Wan has offered to help him fix the armor Cody damaged by protecting his Jedi’s _aliit_ , it means something. It means more than something. It’s the signal Cody’s been waiting for that Obi-Wan is finally starting to see Cody’s value as a mate.

Dressed in his formal grays and pushing the hover-cart with the trunk that contains his armor (and a little surprise for Obi-Wan that he really hopes will be well received), Cody can’t help but puff-out his chest whenever he comes across a brother. They all know where he’s going and why, they know who invited who and that’s something that goes to Cody’s head worse than the moonshine Gearshift brews and that Cody pretends he knows nothing about.

It takes all his strength to not smile like a shiny at his first posting or, even worse, to not whistle like he’s seen some of the nat-born officials do.

When Cody steps inside the turbo-lift that will take him to the level where Obi-Wan’s quarters are located, two brothers step out to make room for him and his armor. They nod at him in all seriousness, quiet words of congratulations spoken under their breath to wish him luck. Cody feels his chest fill with warmth, his grip on the hover-cart tightening as a reflex. The love he has for his brothers is sometimes the only thing sustaining him during hard times, and he knows that they love him just as much. But it’s one thing to know something, and another one entirely to witness that love in their respectful participation to something that means so much to him.

He has to admit that it is a little bit disconcerting how much all his brothers care about his Courting. The Template taught him that this level of involvement is completely expected in Mandalorian culture, that it is a good sign as it speaks of the strength and loyalty that runs within the clan. Still, he hopes he doesn’t end up disappointing everybody. That Obi-Wan is responding positively to the Courting gives him hope, but Cody isn’t naive enough to believe that this is all it takes to conquer the love of a man like his _Jetii_.

Cody is so lost in his thoughts that he barely realizes the lift has stopped. A brother has his hand curled around the edge of the lift’s doors, keeping them from closing, while another one next to Cody brushes his arm against Cody in a light reminder that this is his level.

Cody ducks his head to hide the blush he feels coming high on his cheeks and pushes the hover-cart forward. He turns right and starts down the corridor, studiously ignoring the snickers he feels coming from his brothers. He has no doubts that soon, everyone in the 212 th  will know of this, so he mentally prepares for the gentle ribbing he’ll receive from his _vode_ . He deserves it after all, behaving like a barely-decanted _vod_.

Soon, Cody reaches the door to Obi-Wan’s personal quarters.

He doesn’t immediately alert the Jedi of his presence, spending a few moments to collect himself. So far, he has managed to always do the right thing in Obi-Wan’s presence, keeping the fumbling to a minimum. But this is the first time he is going to spend a significant amount of time with his Jedi. Alone. Since the start of the Courtship. There is a tremendous potential for a disaster made of saying the wrong thing, staring too much and just generally making a mess of things. After all the progress Cody has made, it would be a tragedy.

The more he thinks about it, the more he feels nervous. He rubs sweaty hands against his thighs, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

“No need to feel nervous,” he murmurs to himself. “It’s just Obi-Wan and you’re just going to fix your armor together. No big deal.”

He runs his fingers through his dark curls, making sure his hair is not in disarray. Satisfied with his appearance, Cody punches out a quick breath and lays the palm of his hand on the sensor that will alert Obi-Wan of his presence.

The door slides open almost immediately, though Obi-Wan is nowhere to be found. It’s late in the day so Cody figures his Jedi is probably meditating, something Cody discovered Obi-Wan prefers to do either early in the morning or in the evening right after a light meal.

Cody pushes the hover-cart with his armor inside Obi-Wan’s quarters, allowing the door to slide close behind him. Being a High-General and a member of the Jedi Council means that Obi-Wan has the biggest quarters on the ship, bigger even than most Generals, divided into three main rooms; a living space with couches and a low table, an office and his sleeping quarters.

For the most part it’s just a matter of convenience. Obi-Wan doesn’t simply command the 212 th  Battalion, but the entire Third System Army, which means he has to coordinate with many other Generals and Admirals whenever there is a campaign to plan. Which explains the ample space in his office for a holo-table, a sturdy desk always stacked with data-pads and the rows of filing cabinets filled with a terrifying amount of paperwork neatly categorized in order of importance.

The spacious living-room, envy of all _vode_ and other Jedi Generals alike, is actually supposed to be used to wine and dine any important dignitaries that sometimes happen to visit. In the beginning, Cody hadn’t really understood why anyone would want to visit a battle-ship in the middle of the war. Then he had had the pleasure of witnessing his Jedi talking circles around some wealthy head-of-state from a planet Cody barely remembers, plying him with Alderaanian wine while securing support and money for the Republic’s cause against the Separatists. After that, Cody had requested to be present during such dinners, ostensibly to play his role of Marshal Commander and second-in-command of the Third System Army, though he was sure Obi-Wan knew exactly why Cody wanted to be there.

A quick glance at the door that leads to Obi-Wan’s sleeping quarters reveals that the door is shut. Since his Jedi requested his presence at this hour, Cody knows his previous assumptions were correct and the other man is more than likely meditating.

As he waits for Obi-Wan to emerge from his meditation, Cody decides to look around.

He has been in here before, during planning sessions with his Jedi that usually ran far into the night cycle. However, those session were always held in Obi-Wan’s office, as were all the other times Cody and his Jedi had spent time together in the General’s quarters. Both men were regularly swamped with work so the Jedi’s office was always waiting for them.

This time, instead, Cody is at liberty to take in where Obi-Wan _lives_ on the ship.

Much like his quarters in the Jedi Temple, the living space is not cluttered with things, rather tastefully decorated with carefully selected items that mean something to Obi-Wan. On a set of shelves on the wall directly facing the entrance, Cody spies a statuette he remembers being a good-luck charm from Tatooine, a gift from General Skywalker. Cody smiles as right next to it, he spots a collector’s edition of an atrociously dramatic Togrutan holo-series that Obi-Wan loves.

Cody walks closer, observing the various knick-knacks Obi-Wan has collected over the years. He’s sure most of them, if not all, are gifts the Jedi has received from friends and family that he wants to display.

On the bottom shelf, right next to a curious-looking rock, there’s a holo-picture. Cody leans closer to see it better. There’s a man in the picture, comfortably sitting on a couch, feet propped on a low table Cody is sure he has seen not so long ago in his Jedi’s quarters in the Temple. He can’t be sure because the proportion of the holo-picture are a bit warped, but Cody thinks the man in the picture has to be quite tall, imposing even, with long brown hair cascading over his shoulders and an impressive nose. A Coruscanti sunset bathes the room the man is in in a soft golden light.

“That’s my Master, Qui-Gon Jinn.”

Cody turns, barely refraining from cursing the fact that he didn’t even hear Obi-Wan coming out of his room. The sight of his Jedi steals his breath away and Cody has to take a moment to collect himself as he’s reminded of the pleasurable meal the two of them had shared what feels like ages ago.

Obi-Wan is clearly dressed for comfort in a faded blue tunic that has seen better days, and dark-gray, tight-fitting leggings. It’s not the first time Cody has seen him out of his Jedi robes, but it is still a rare, and thus precious, sight to see his Jedi dressed like this. A sight Cody desperately hopes will become a normal occurrence sometime in the future.

“I didn’t mean to snoop,” Cody says, sliding into parade rest without even thinking about it.

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, “I’d hardly call it snooping, Cody. I display all these things because I want people to see them.”

Cody watches as Obi-Wan picks up the holo-picture he’d been admiring. There’s a tenderness in his eyes as he watches over the picture of his late Master that makes something in Cody’s chest grow three sizes. Cody doesn’t understand how people can call Jedi ‘emotionless’ when they are capable of forming such profound bonds.

“Do you miss him?” He wants immediately to take back his words when the light in Obi-Wan’s eyes dims a little bit. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Obi-Wan puts the holo-picture down and turns to loom at Cody. “I don’t want you to feel like you cannot ask me questions about my life. If you want to know something about me, you’re welcome to ask.”

Cody swallows heavily, suddenly feeling tense. “Anything?”

“Anything.” Obi-Wan nods.

He turns abruptly back toward the shelves, but this time he doesn’t pick up the holo-picture, fingers closing instead around the rock right next to it. He turns it around in his hand for a moment before handing it to Cody. The Commander accepts it with a curious tilt of the head, wondering what is the meaning behind his Jedi’s actions. Cody has to admit that it’s a pretty rock, no wider than the palm of his hand, surprisingly smooth and with some intricate mash-up of colors that give the impression of admiring solid water whenever the light hits it differently.

Still, it’s simply a rock.

“My Master gave it to me, when I turned 13,” Obi-Wan says, making Cody’s eyes lock with his. “It’s a Force-sensitive stone from his homeworld. He found it in the River of Light when he himself was 13.”

Cody looks back at the stone. It’s a bit miffing to think that a rock is more Force-sensitive than he is. The Template had once said that in his bloodline they were all as Force-sensitive as particularly determined rocks. So much for that.

Obi-Wan chuckles under his breath and reaches back for the stone. Cody passes it back with no complaint, personally offended by its Force-sensitiveness.

“Master Qui-Gon held on to it for some thirty years before giving it to me.” Obi-Wan holds the stone up, admiring the play of light on its surface. “Force-sensitive objects have the peculiar characteristic of retaining a trace of the beings that touch them, even more so if that someone is strong in the Force.”

Cody is starting to understand where Obi-Wan wants to lead him.

“I’ve had this stone in my life for more than twenty years now,” his Jedi says in a soft voice. “Whenever I find myself missing my Master, I hold on to it and I let its warmth seep into me.” He does so now, closing his eyes and curling his fingers around the stone as if it were a lifeline.

Cody watches in silence and thinks about all the brothers he’s lost since the start of this war. No, not the start of the war, even before. He’s lost brothers on Kamino too, because the longnecks or the Template had found something undesirable in them. They had not perished in battle, but that doesn’t mean that Cody feels their death any less. He remembers the batchmates he never saw come back from a mission, and thinks of the nameless brothers he never met and yet knows have died in a war that seems so eager in taking the lives of the _vode_.

More than once Cody has felt despair reading the names, sometimes just the numbers, identifying one more brother lost, and in those moments only words far older than him had managed to bring him comfort.

“ _Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la_ ,” he murmurs, looking at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan smiles softly at him, nodding in understanding. “We are one with the Force, and the Force is with us.”

Different words, yet Cody knows that their meaning is the same. It’s comforting, in some way, to know that they share this belief. Cody has never been religious, though he sometimes allows himself to utter a quick word to _Manda_ , but he thinks that if _Jetiise_ and _Mando’ade_ can both believe in a reunion with lost loved ones after death, then it means that there has to be some truth to it.

Obi-Wan lays down the stone back in its place, drawing Cody’s attention back to the picture of the defunct Jedi Master. He’s surprised by the fact that he wished he had met the man before his death. The _Mando’ade_ are a people that places great value in familial relationships, and Cody might not know anything about how things are done on Stewjon or Coruscant, but he’s fairly certain that meeting the _buire_ of one’s intended is an important step. Cody has no female _buir_ and there is no way for Obi-Wan to meet the Template now, which doesn’t exactly pose a problem for the Courtship, but it does leave a bitter taste in Cody’s mouth. He wants everything to be perfect for Obi-Wan.

He sighs at his thoughts, prompting Obi-Wan to look at him questioningly.

“I was thinking that I would have liked to meet your Master,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “If he’s anything like you, I think we would have gotten along.”

Obi-Wan lets out a laugh at that, head thrown back and eyes crinkling at the side.

“What?” Cody feels quite offended by the scene he is witnessing. “You don’t think he would have liked me?”

His Jedi lays a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it as he tries to regain his breath. Cody refuses to be mollified by the physical contact. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t lean into the touch. Good soldiers know how to take full advantage of a favorable situation when it presents itself, and Cody prides himself in being the best.

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan croaks out, taking deep breaths.

“Are you done?” Cody deadpans, eyebrow steadily crawling toward his hairline. “If you didn’t think he’d like me, you could have just said so,” he grumbles, crossing his arms on his chest.

Obi-Wan uses the hem of his sleeve to dab at the tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you. I swear.” He moves to stand in front of Cody, his free hand rising to rest on the Commander’s other shoulder. “He would have liked you very much. I’m sure of it.”

Cody feels himself involuntarily melt under the touch. He’s a little disappointed in himself by how easily Obi-Wan can dispel any complaint Cody might have by simply laying a hand on him. But oh his _Jetii_ is being so liberal with his touches today, and Cody, used as he is to physical contact with his brothers, can only soak up every touch Obi-Wan chooses to bestow upon him. The hands lightly squeezing his shoulders are so warm and strong and Cody wonders if he’s imagining the minute flexing of Obi-Wan’s slender fingers, softly massaging the tense muscles.

For a moment, Cody imagines resting his hands on Obi-Wan’s hips and drawing him close. He wonders what his Jedi would do then. Would he let himself melt against Cody the same way the Commander desperately wants to do? Would he wind his arms around Cody’s neck and let him tuck himself close, face buried in the Jedi’s neck? Cody’s spent a lot of time studying their height difference and he’s pretty confident in his ability to slot into place against Obi-Wan’s body, cheek against shoulder, forehead against neck and nose brushing against the magnificent hollow of Obi-Wan’s throat.

It’s just a fantasy, Cody knows it’s too soon to pull his Jedi in such an intimate embrace. Still, he vows to himself that, one way or another, he’s going to make that fantasy into a reality.

Cody drags his eyes back to Obi-Wan’s, noting the subtle question in them. “You think _I_ wouldn’t have liked _him_ , then.” He picks back their conversation easily.

There’s definitely hilarity in Obi-Wan’s voice when he answers. “Do you remember that mission on Ruulderran? When we had to infiltrate that CIS base to recover their plans and I led us through the mountains to get there?”

Cody’s eyes narrow. “You mean the mission where we were supposed to take one route and you arbitrarily decided to change that route because, and I am quoting here, ‘the Force told you it was the right choice’? That the mission you’re talking about?” It was one of the first missions they went on together and Cody had almost had a stroke induced by the stress of dealing with a General who changed plans because some mysterious Force told him he was supposed to do things a certain way.

“I was right though, wasn’t I?”

“You almost got mauled by a plant.”

“Details.”

Cody really wants to reply but he is being distracted by the tantalizing way Obi-Wan’s thumbs are caressing the skin above his collarbones. He’s definitely not imagining it and his heart soars at his Jedi’s affection. This is exactly what he’s always imagined Obi-Wan’s affection to be; discreet, subtle, unassuming and yet so meaningful and potent. Cody knows with absolute certainty that this is what he wants in his life for as long as possible.

“Anyways, take the frustration I know you felt at my listening to the Force instead of you, multiply it by a thousand and you will get close to what it was like to deal with Master Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan says with mirth in his eyes. “He once inputted hyperspace nav calculations with his eyes closed because he said that he felt we would end up where we were needed as the Force willed it.”

Just imagining that scene has Cody wanting to curl up in a ball or directly space himself. He’s suddenly proud of Obi-Wan for growing up to be only slightly insane on top of being a thrill-seeking Jedi Master. Things could definitely have been worse.

“You’re right,” he says to Obi-Wan. “If I had to deal with that on a daily basis, I probably would have gone straight to Kamino to ask the longnecks to decommission me.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

With a last squeeze of his shoulders, Obi-Wan steps back and looks at the crate where Cody’s armor is still neatly stored inside.

“Should we get started?”

“Yes, let us,” Cody answers immediately, already feeling a thrill inside him. They are finally going to work on his armor. Together. It’s a dream come true.

They walk to the crate and Cody opens it, revealing two compartments. One has his armor, neatly stored, each piece in its own place. The other compartment has Obi-Wan’s present. For the moment, Cody leaves that one closed, opening the one with his armor inside and starting to take out each piece. Only his plackart and helmet are in need of repair, but Cody is so used to tending to his armor after every mission, that he simply takes out every piece.

“Here,” Obi-Wan directs him to a low table between two black couches. There are soft-looking pillows on the ground, perfect for kneeling on. “I though we could work here. Is it alright?”

“It’s perfect,” Cody says, smiling at his Jedi. He’s never seen Obi-Wan so nervous. It’s cute. Also, it helps settle his nerves to see his normally calm General in such a tizzy.

Together, they lay out each piece on the table. Cody goes back to the hover-cart, retrieving the small case with everything he needs to create the solutions to repair the cracks in his armor. He lays it open on the table, reaching for his helmet to start telling Obi-Wan what they are going to be doing, before realizing Obi-Wan is no longer at his side. He turns around to search for him and almost chokes on his own saliva at the scene in front of him.

Obi-Wan is bent at the waist, rummaging in a low cabinet, searching for who knows what. Cody, however, is much more interested in the way his Jedi’s leggings hug Obi-Wan’s ass, leaving nothing up to imagination. Cody’s hands clench around his helmet so tight he wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up adding more cracks to the ones already present. He doesn’t care too much, to be honest, not when that’s all he can do to stop himself from standing up and marching over to Obi-Wan to do things he’d better stop thinking about before his Jedi picks up on them.

He’s managed to school his expression to one of distant calm in time for Obi-Wan to stand up and turn around, a metal can in his hands.

“Everything alright?”

Cody gulps heavily, forcing his eyes to meet Obi-Wan’s. “Yes, everything’s just fine.” He hopes his smile is convincing enough. “What’s that?” He points at the can in his Jedi’s hands.

The way a deep blush suddenly takes root on Obi-Wan’s cheeks is a surprise and a delight.

Obi-Wan slowly moves closer, fingers tapping restlessly on the metal surface of the can. “Well, I thought that we can fix your armor and, maybe, touch-up on the paint? I noticed that it got pretty scratched-up over the months.”

Cody doesn’t know what to say. This is so much more than what he was expecting when Obi-Wan invited him to repair the damage to his armor. It’s almost too much except Cody doesn’t want to change anything about this moment. He’s overwhelmed, unable to say anything and he’s aware of the fact that his silence is stretching too long.

While he’s been having his interior crisis, Obi-Wan has been getting closer and is now kneeling on a cushion right next to him.

“I asked the men if they had any spare cans of paint and they were kind enough to lend me one.” Obi-Wan’s voice is soft, as if he’s afraid of speaking too loudly. “Maybe after we’ve finished with your armor, we can add a little gold to mine as well?”

How is Cody supposed to find enough brain-power to answer? Painting Obi-Wan’s armor? Adding gold to it? Cody has half a mind to drop everything and just ask his _Jetii_ to say the _riduurok_ with him.

Obi-Wan must perceive his silence as negative because he shifts where he’s kneeling, nervously fiddling with the can of paint in his hands.

“I have overstepped,” he says, lowering his gaze and shaking his head dejectedly. “I thought you were trying to...but I must have misread everything. I’m sorry. I thought this is what you wanted, that this was the right thing to do.” He’s babbling now, words coming quickly out of his mouth, and Cody wants to stop him right there but apparently his mouth and his brain have decided not to cooperate with him anymore. “You gave me a weapon for self-defense that you made yourself, you protected my _aliit_ and when I asked you to repair your armor together, I thought your reaction meant that I was doing the right thing. Asking you to paint my armor with the 212th, _your_ color...I thought that was the next step, right?”

Obi-Wan searches his eyes for a moment. Cody can see that he’s terrified of his silence so, when Obi-Wan makes to stand up and retreat, he finally manages to shake himself out of his stupor. He closes his fingers around Obi-Wan’s wrists, urging him to remain where he is while Cody works on getting his mouth working again. He can’t believe what his _Jetii_ just confessed. Cody had been confident that Obi-Wan would understand his intention the moment he made his Courting apparent, but to think that his Jedi seemed to know the process intimately, enough to know what painting his armor in Cody’s color meant.

“Please don’t leave,” Cody manages to murmur. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You just surprised me, that’s all.” He brushes his thumbs on the inside of Obi-Wan’s wrists, feeling the rapid thrumming of his Jedi’s heart.

“So, you aren’t angry?”

Cody’s eyes widen. “Angry?”

Obi-Wan licks his lips. “You seemed pretty out of it.”

“I told you you just surprised me.” Cody squeezes his Jedi’s wrists. “When I started courting you, I thought you would understand what my intentions were.”

“I do understand them,” Obi-Wan whispers.

Cody bends forward, forcing Obi-Wan to look him in the eye. “I never dreamed that you would actually know what Mandalorian Courting entails. I suspected you knew something when you asked to repair my armor with me, but to think that you knew which steps to take,” Cody shakes his head, still disbelieving. “I never allowed myself to imagine that, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan shifts underneath his hands, and Cody lets him get out of his grip. He immediately mourns the absence of contact, but he understands that Obi-Wan needs a moment to collect himself. He’s proven right when the Jedi grips his hands together and closes his eyes, taking deep, slow breaths to center himself.

“It appears we had a misunderstanding,” Obi-Wan says without opening his eyes. “When I was younger, I spent some time on Mandalore. That’s where I learned to speak _Mando’a_ and where I learned what Mandalorian Courting looks like. Though, I admit there are some differences here and there. That’s why I was unsure.”

Cody nods at his words, eagerly soaking up every new tidbit of information on Obi-Wan’s life. He always wondered how Obi-Wan ended up learning _Mando’a_ , how he learned their culture. Spending time on Mandalore when he was younger makes a lot of sense. Although, now Cody really wants to know who taught him the language and everything he knows.

Obi-Wan opens his eyes, now calm and collected as he always is. Slowly, his hands rise to cup Cody’s face. Cody holds his breath, letting him do whatever he wants to do. Obi-Wan brushes his thumbs over the apples of Cody’s cheeks before sliding his fingers to the back of his head. The feeling of fingers sliding through the short hair at back of his head is glorious, making Cody glad he decided to go for a longer-on-top cut with an undercut. As much as he wants to close his eyes and just revel in the touch of Obi-Wan’s hands on his skin, he forces himself to keep them open.

Oh so slowly, Obi-Wan directs him to lean forward and Cody does so with baited breath. The moment their foreheads touch it feels like something sliding into place, finally. It’s not the first time Cody’s touched foreheads with someone, but never has he been on the receiving end of a _Keldabe_ kiss so sweet and meaningful. He presses harder against Obi-Wan, trembling slightly in the grip of strong emotions.

“Obi-Wan…”

“I know.”

They stay like that for long minutes, just touching foreheads, nothing more. At a certain point, Cody’s eyes slide closed and he just basks in the knowledge that Obi-Wan has never been closer to him, either physically or emotionally, yet here he is now. The fact that they have put into words what is happening between them, acknowledging where the Courting is going to lead to, finally makes Cody feel certain that everything is going to be alright, one way or another. The acceptance of his feelings, and their reciprocation, solidify Cody’s determination to see the Courting through to the end.

Cody hums low in his throat, the sound all the more loud after the prolonged silence.

“Should we get to what we got together to do in the first place?” he asks quietly, completely relaxed.

“We should,” Obi-Wan sounds just as relaxed, and that, more than anything, makes Cody feel happy.

In unison, they turn toward the table and Cody starts to explain how to repair his armor. It’s a simple process, one the _vode_ simplified even more out of need for a quick method to make sure their armor, their one and last defense, would serve them well in any occasion, even under fire.

Cody grabs the case he had previously laid on the table, pulling out of it the substances needed to create the paste that will fill the cracks created by the claws of the Yssis. He shows Obi-Wan how to mix them, in which quantity, and how to recognize when the paste is thick enough to harden perfectly once dried without compromising the integrity of the armor. Obi-Wan nods at his side, only interrupting to ask pertinent questions. Once his Jedi feels he understands what he has to do, he reaches for the helmet and sets to works, leaving the more serious damage (the one to the side of his plackart) for Cody to fix.

The two work in silence as it always is with them. The only time the silence is broken, is when Obi-Wan stops to ask if he’s doing a good job, or when Cody offers suggestions on how the Jedi can proceed. Cody should be used by now to the way Obi-Wan actually _listens_ when he talks, but it still feels nice to know that his opinion and his experience are actually acknowledged. Obi-Wan has always listened to him, since the very first time Cody dared to express his opinion during a mission briefing. Still, there are too many nat-born officers that disregard his input whenever he speaks for Cody to forget that, for a vast portion of the Galaxy, he and his brothers are not equal to nat-borns.

Once they are done repairing and repainting his armor, Cody stands to store his armor back in the crate. He sees from the corner of his eye Obi-Wan silently paddling into his private rooms, only to come back with his own armor or, well, the parts of armor Cody once upon a time managed to make him wear after long hours of negotiations.

This time, they are kneeling so close to one another that they are touching from shoulder to thigh. Obi-Wan wants to keep the design simple, a stripe of gold on both shoulders that runs down his arms, bypasses the symbol of the Third System Army on the vambraces and the symbol of the Jedi Order on the left pauldron, and stops at the plate on his gloves. Cody proposes they add a gold stripe down the front of the gorget. He doesn’t say that he wants the stripes to mirror the ones he has on his plackart, but the knowing glance Obi-Wan throws his way coupled with the light blush on his cheeks, tell Cody that he understands.

Unsurprisingly, Obi-Wan has steady hands and only asks Cody to outline the stripes for him before he starts coloring them in. Cody lets him work on his own, shifting slightly next to him to free his right arm, trapped between the two of them. Without thinking, he slings his arm around Obi-Wan’s waist, hand neatly cupping his Jedi’s hip. He glances quickly at Obi-Wan to see what his reaction is, but his Jedi only leans more fully against him, prompting Cody to grin widely like a sappy fool.

He watches how the painting proceeds and he feels a sort of primal pride at the color slowly covering his Jedi’s armor. Officially, gold is the color for the whole 212 th  Battalion, but since Cody is a Marshall Commander, second-in-command of the Third System Army and, together with Obi-Wan, de-facto Commander of the 212  th , gold is unofficially his color. Obi-Wan had referred to it as such and then had asked to adopt his colors as his own. If before, Cody would have been happy at the simple fact that Obi-Wan wanted to paint his armor, now, knowing that the Jedi knew what those colors meant in Mandalorian Courting, Cody is positively overjoyed.

It’s as Obi-Wan reaches for his right greave and starts painting a diagonal gold stripe that perfectly mirrors the one Cody has on his left cuisse, that Cody realizes he cannot resist anymore.

He gives a hard squeeze to Obi-Wan’s hip, prompting him to turn and look at Cody with a raised eyebrow. Cody simply smiles at him and tenderly cups his cheek with his free hand. He spends a moment to marvel at how surprisingly soft Obi-Wan’s beard feels against his palm, before bending forward and touching his lips to Obi-Wan’s. He feels the Jedi suck in a sharp breath, stilling completely. Cody is about to withdraw, afraid he’s made the wrong move, when he feels Obi-Wan’s lips tentatively move against his own. With a low sigh, Cody melts into the kiss.

It’s not Cody’s first kiss, though it feels like it. It’s just a soft brushing of lips, and Cody doesn’t feel the need to try and deepen it. He’s content to just keep on kissing Obi-Wan like this, softly, sweetly, feeling the soft puffs of air against his face whenever Obi-Wan exhales, their noses bumping together when Cody tilts his head to the side, the tickling of Obi-Wan’s beard against his skin, his Jedi molding himself against Cody’s body as if he’s made to do just that.

The room is completely silent, the only sounds the subtle smacking of their lips when they pull slightly back only to meet again and again, and their low sighs when their lips mold together perfectly. Cody moves the hand cupping Obi-Wan’s cheek, carding his fingers through his hair and it’s as soft as he’s always imagined it to be. Obi-Wan positively shivers in his arms when Cody lightly scratches at his scalp, hands flying up to Cody’s shoulders, gripping them as if they were the only thing keeping the Jedi anchored to this moment.

He smiles against Obi-Wan’s lips, pulling back one final time. His Jedi keeps his eyes closed and Cody delights in the way his lids flutter when Cody brushes a stray lock of hair away from his face, it having come loose while they were kissing. When he finally opens his eyes, Obi-Wan looks almost dazed, making Cody feel rather proud of himself. He’s all pink lips, pink cheeks and eyes so incredibly blue, that all Cody wants to do is go back to kissing him and never stop.

Instead, he lightly brushes his lips against his forehead and then turns to look at Obi-Wan’s greave on the table. He nudges it toward his Jedi and squeezes his hip, encouraging him to go back to what they were doing.

Beside him, Obi-Wan squirms where he’s kneeling.

“Cody?”

Cody turns at the tentative way Obi-Wan says his name. His Jedi swallows heavily and opens his mouth to speak, though no sounds come out. He closes his mouth and shrugs his shoulders, picking up the brush he’d been using to paint his armor.

“It’s not important.”

Cody has the feeling that whatever Obi-Wan had been about to say is definitely important, but he’s content to let the man decide when he wants to share with him whatever is occupying his mind. He takes a chance and kisses the side of Obi-Wan’s head, offering comfort in a way he’s always wanted to but never dared hope could become reality.

Obi-Wan’s lips curl slightly up, and Cody considers that a win.

“You kissed him?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“It was good.”

“That’s it? You kissed him, he kissed you back, and all you have to say is ‘it was good’?”

Cody stops his reps at the bench-press, resting on his back and looking up at Boil’s face. His brother is leaning on the metal bar, resting his full weight on it to force Cody to focus on him. Boil looks at him like he’s seeing a Seppie tap-dancing with General Windu, a mixture of confusion and horror filling his eyes. Cody has to resist the temptation to laugh in his face.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, _vod_.”

Cody knows exactly what Boil wants to hear, but annoying him by being willfully obtuse is too much fun. That and Cody wants to get a little revenge on his brother for the unfortunately good imitation of Cody’s starstruck face whenever someone even mentions Obi-Wan in his presence. He’d expected the ribbing after the scene in the turbolift, but that doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to fight back.

Somewhere to the side, a brother is humming a song Cody doesn’t recognize under his breath. It’s very distracting and Cody has half a mind to tell the trooper to cut it out.

“Stop doing that,” Boil snaps at him. “You know exactly what I want to know!”

Cody bites his lips, soldiering on in his resolute silence.

“What are we talking about?”

Waxer and Wooley join their brothers in the _Negotiator_ ’s gym. Both have clearly being exercising for sometime now, towels around their shoulders to soak up the sweat dampening their skin. They sit on a bench by Cody’s side, grabbing a couple of bottles and squirting water into their mouths.

“Our Commander here has kissed the General and he doesn’t want to share the success with his dear brothers, that’s what we’re talking about.” Boil stands up straight, crossing his arms with a disgruntled expression clouding his face.

Wooley whistles from where he’s sitting, one hand going through his mohawk in a failed attempt at keeping it from flopping back down on his face. Waxer is nodding his congratulations, respect for his Commander shining in his eyes.

“That explains why a certain someone has been walking around with a freshly painted armor,” Longshot comments, making an appearance and patting Cody’s thigh in congratulations as he walks by to sit next to Wooley.

“I could be wrong, but a little bird told me that the General’s armor sports some pretty familiar gold stripes that weren’t there yesterday,” Wooley adds.

At this, even Boil looks interested enough to drop his mulish sour mood and look at Cody with raised eyebrows. Cody debates whether to keep up his charade to make his brothers suffer, or whether boasting about his progress with Obi-Wan will be more rewarding than that. In the end, he knows exactly what will bring him pleasure and make him even more of a badass in front of his little brothers.

“You’re not wrong,” he states, putting the barbell down and sitting up. “He’s got my colors on him.” He pauses, letting his words sink in before he goes in for the kill. “And it was all his idea.”

Boil swears like a Hutt, while Waxer, Longshot and Wooley lean back in a comic unison, hands flying up to run through their hair (or across his skin as his Waxer’s case) while they look at Cody as if he were a god sitting among mere mortals. The Commander puffs out his chest, reveling in the reverent stares from his _vode_. Even the trooper humming a song in the background doesn’t bother him in this moment, though he’s getting louder.

“Damn, _vod_ ,” Boil shakes his head. “The Seppies work fast but you work faster. If you go on like this, you’ll be saying the _riduurok_ soon.”

Boil is joking, but Cody feels his cheeks get warm. He is never going to reveal to his brothers how close he got to saying the _riduurok_ before he managed to wrangle his emotions and behave like a normal trooper.

“But what about the kiss?” Waxer leans forward. “What was it like? Did you start it? Did he?”

“I bet it was the General, no way does our Commander have the courage to make the first step.” Boil smirks at his _vod_. “Are we forgetting how we had to force him to even admit he liked the General?”

Cody jumps at the possibility of changing the subject and shutting Boil up for good.

“Actually, you’re right, Boil. Obi-Wan was the one who initiated the kiss.” He lets Boil savor the sweet taste of victory, and then strikes fast to knock him back down. “The first one, anyway.”

Boil does a double take at that, eyes wide and incredulous at the verbal victory snatched from right under his nose. Wooley, Waxer and Longshot laugh out loud, pointing at Boil’s face with tears streaming down their eyes. Boil’s face reddens violently and he launches himself against the brother closest to him. Longshot barely has the time to dodge his incoming brother, Wooley helpfully supplying him with a sweaty towel to use as a weapon to defend himself.

Cody leans back on his hands and watches his brothers fight one another. He frowns at the steady humming he keeps hearing and looks over his shoulder to find out whoever it is that keeps up the incessant noise. He immediately spots Singer not too far from where he and his brothers are talking. The kid is watching a hand-to-hand combat match between two troopers, but Cody catches him throwing glances at where he’s sitting at the bench-press, quickly looking away when he notices Cody observing him.

Cody wonders if he’s finally going to learn what makes the kid nervous, so much so that he actually started singing to himself. If his first mission hadn’t been enough to make him utter a single note, Cody is definitely curious to know what could.

“So the General made the first move.” Waxer pulls him back from his thoughts.

He nods at his brother. “He talked about painting armors and I lost it. Made a fool of myself.” He admits it freely, knowing there is no point in hiding. “I managed to talk and he revealed he knew about our Courting traditions.”

“Is that when he kissed you?” Wooley leans forward, emanating excitement all around him.

His brothers are all listening intently, even Boil and Longshot are focused on what’s being said from where they lie on the floor, a tangled mess of arms and legs.

“Sweetest _Keldabe_ I ever received.”

“A _Keldabe_?” Waxer practically screams it, catching the attention of every _vod_ in the gym.

Wooley is taking deep breaths, hand fanning himself after what he’s just heard. On the floor, Boil and Longshot are petrified, stunned out of their mind at the revelation that their commanding officers are trading _Keldabe_ kisses like it is nothing. Cody understands prefectly their reactions. To non-Mandalorians, a _Keldabe_ might seem like a ridiculous gesture; two people butting helmets surely is a weird way of expressing affection for someone. What those people couldn’t understand was the meaning behind the foreheads touching. _Keldabe_ for a _Mando’ad_ is the kind of kiss you can’t wait to give to your partner, the kind where you can’t even waste the second it would take to take off your helmet to kiss properly. It’s longing and need to be close, it’s being unable to stay apart for too long, and it’s coming home.

Cody preens at the thought that Obi-Wan definitely knew what a _Keldabe_ meant and had chosen to share one with him.

“Wait, you said, he kissed you the first time,” Waxer says. “So you kissed him then? Another _Keldabe_?”

Wooley looks at his brother mildly scandalized.

“Not a _Keldabe_ ,” Cody denies, shaking his head. “It was a proper kiss, this time. Couldn’t help myself.”

“And how was it?” Waxer wants to know.

“Is he as good with his mouth as we thought?” Longshot pipes up from the floor.

Boil slaps him on the back of his head, garnering a thankful nod from Cody.

“Is he though?” Boil smirks.

“It wasn’t like that!” Cody stops his brothers before they could go on wondering what Obi-Wan was like in his privacy. Their interest reminds him of The Pool, and the many different things the _vode_ imagined about his Jedi. He really doesn’t need to remember all that. Especially not while he’s courting Obi-Wan and getting closer and closer to some real-life experience about some of the things his brothers speculate about when it comes to his General. “There was no tongue, if you really want to know, and it was perfect like that.”

His brothers are wise enough to avoid any comment on his kiss, choosing instead to congratulate him once again on his progress with the Courting.

Cody takes advantage of the situation and goes back to doing his reps, after all he didn’t go to the gym to slack off. All _vode_ had a genetically enhanced body, resulting in easy muscle growth when one exercised consistently, but doing push-ups and sparring with a brother were also a great way to burn off some of the excess energy due to the cabin fever caused by long hyperspace journeys.

As he does his push-ups with Wooley helpfully spotting for him, Cody lets his mind wander and relax. It comes to his mind that he never gave Obi-Wan his present, and he files that recollection away to be used in the future. The truth is, Obi-Wan had really thrown him off kilter. In a good way, obviously, but Cody’s carefully laid out plans had been spaced in a heartbeat. No matter, he would simply have to find another occasion to give Obi-Wan his gift.

He has just finished his lat rep, when the constant humming he’d been hearing coming from Singer suddenly gets louder before stopping. Cody looks to the side and sees the shiny standing close by, looking at him with nervous yet determined eyes. The Commander waits for him to say something, but Singer simply shifts his weight from one foot to the other, jaw twitching with words that he doesn’t seem capable of pronouncing.

“Do you need something, trooper?” Cody says with his Commander voice, hoping to elicit a knee-jerk reaction from the rookie.

Singer’s back straightens on instinct and his eyes turn to durasteel when they meet Cody’s. “I want to challenge you for the right to court the General.”

Singer’s words are welcomed by silence. The brothers look at each others, unsure what to do. Mostly, they can’t believe what came out of the rookie’s mouth nor what possessed him to make him think that challenging their Commander is a good idea on any occasion. Waxer runs his hand over his head, shrugging his shoulders when Longshot looks at him in a silent request to know what they are supposed to do now. Wooley looks on the verge of laughing, though he’s not sure if that would be appropriate.

Boil actually laughs out loud, walking up to Singer and slinging an arm around his neck. “You’re funny, kid!” he says, dabbing at a tear in the corner of his eye. “It takes guts to say stuff like that to the Commander, I’ll give you that. I suggest you think long and hard about this, though, before you get yourself hurt.”

Singer violently scrolls his shoulders, dislodging Boil’s arm and shoving his brother away from him. “I know the rules of Courting! I have every right to challenge the Commander!”

“The fact that you can, doesn’t mean you should,” Longshot comments.

“Well, I want to.”

The brothers start arguing, Wooley, Waxer and Boil trying to dissuade Singer from challenging Cody, while the not-so-shiny-anymore trooper insists that he won’t accept ‘no’ as an answer. No matter the arguments the brothers lob at him, Singer remains determined to see his challenge through.

Cody keeps silent, the only thing going through his mind is that he really should have expected something like this would happen sooner or later. More later than sooner, if he’s completely honest. He’d seen the way the rookie behaved when Obi-Wan was around, but he’d thought it to be nothing more than the usual puppy love phase every _vod_ went through once they left Kamino and met people who didn’t share their same exact face. Apparently, he’d been wrong.

There is no reason why the challenge shouldn’t happen, Singer is correct when he says that he has the right to challenge Cody. Indeed, it’s actually bad luck to have a Courting without even a single challenge. Cody had simply thought he’d have to forgo the Challenge simply because any other possible ‘rival’ was one of his brothers, and all of them had been incredibly supportive of his decision to court the General.

If Singer wants to challenge him, though…

“What type of challenge did you have in mind?”

Everyone stops arguing as soon as Cody speaks, Singer taking a step forward to plant himself in front of his Commander.

“A straightforward challenge. Hand-to-hand combat and the winner gets to court the General.”

Boil shakes his head in the background, turning to Waxer to murmur, “The kid really wants to die.”

Waxer can only nod subtly next to his brother, tight-lipped.

Cody nods to Singer and stands up, leading the way toward the fighting mat in the center of the gym. Brothers all around them give way, following and stopping around the mat, ready to assist at the Challenge. Cody can hear Boil and Longshot not too far behind him, taking bets on how long the match will last. He would stop them from being too tactless, but the ribbing and the mocking among brothers is normal and Singer would actually end up benefiting from it.

He stops in the center of the mat, Singer ten feet in front of him. Cody looks him up and down, already his mind is set on the match and analyzing how to win the challenge as quickly as possible. Being clones, they are the same height, but they’re far from being built the same way. Cody’s shoulders are wide and his torso a compact mass of muscles, where Singer instead is leaner, slim torso leading to a tapered waist. Cody doesn’t doubt that Singer is good, of course he is, otherwise the longnecks would have decommissioned him long before his assignment to the 212th.

Still, Cody knows he won’t lose this match.

“No weapons and no permanent injuries.” Cody states the rules of the match. “The match ends when one of us yields to the other or can no longer fight. That alright with you?”

“Yes, sir!”

Simultaneously, the two fall into an easy opening stance, knees bent and arms raised. Singer jumps immediately into action, trying to use speed to his advantage instead of waiting for Cody to make his move. As Cody suspected, Singer is good, though not nearly enough to go toe-to-toe with him in a hand-to-hand match. Cody spends the first minute dodging and blocking Singer’s punches and kicks, taking a couple of hits he will definitely feel the next day. He studies the pattern of his adversary’s hits and when he feels he has it down, he strikes.

In the end, it’s not much of a match. Once Cody goes on the offensive, the difference in experience between the two fighters becomes glaringly obvious. It’s not just that Cody has had more time to train and perfect his fighting style, it’s that he actually loves and enjoys hand-to-hand combat (there’s a reason why sometimes Cody likes to punch and kick clankers on the battlefield, and it’s not just because he wants to crack his knuckles). Nothing gets Cody’s blood flowing like the primal contained violence of a spar with a brother.

He presses forward and Singer is forced to give ground, soon finding himself scrambling to put up a defense against Cody’s increasing speed of attack. From there, it is simple for the Commander to slip under Singer’s defense and move the fight to the floor. With precise and fluid motions, Cody catches Singer in a tight headlock, powerful legs bracketing the rookie’s hips and limiting his range of movement. To his credit, Singer doesn’t back down, struggling for all his worth against Cody’s arms in an attempt to break free.

“Yield, Singer,” Cody growls in the shiny’s ear.

Singer ignores him and tries to pry his arm from around his throat. Cody tightens his hold, simultaneously using a hand to bend Singer’s head forward in a careful move to block the flow of air to the rookie’s lungs and leave him no choice but to give up. He feels the moment Singer starts to panic, his movements becoming nervous jerks instead of thought-out moves to get out of a complicated situation. His fingers dig into Cody’s arm, nails no doubt leaving little crescent moons on his skin through the thin fabric of the standard blacks he’s wearing.

“Yield!” Cody commands Singer.

There’s a brief last struggle before Singer frantically taps his hand against Cody’s arm, signaling his intention to give up. Cody immediately releases his hold and helps Singer roll on his side. The rookie gasps and coughs, greedily sucking in lungfuls of precious air as he trembles like a leaf on the ground. Cody kneels at his side and keeps a steady hand on his shoulder, offering a grounding touch as the younger trooper slowly calms down.

“Commander, sir.”

Cody looks up, meeting the eyes of Lieutenant Janad, one of his batchmates from Kamino born with a mutation similar to Rex’s that gave him impressively intense red hair. The man is standing at attention leading Cody to believe that he’s there on official business and whatever he has to say has nothing to do with what just happened.

“Lieutenant, what can I do for you?”

“General Kenobi wants you on the bridge, sir. We have been assigned a new mission.”

Cody gestures for two of his brothers to come forward and help Singer while he stands up.

“Inform General Kenobi that I will be there immediately.” He mentally calculates how long it will take him to grab a quick sonic and change into his armor. “Did you manage to catch any detail of the new mission?”

A distant part of Cody’s mind, the part not focused on his conversation with Janad, notices Singer standing up on unsteady legs with the help of his brothers. A moment later, the rookie escapes from the grip of the _vode_ and makes his way out of the gym, wanting to find some privacy to lick his wounds after his loss. Cody understands the need, and so do the two brothers who helped Singer as they don’t make a move to follow him. Cody isn’t too worried, the experience had been no doubt humiliating for him but, in the end, it would only help Singer get stronger.

Janad’s next words are enough to make any thought of Singer leave Cody’s mind.

“Nothing much, sir. Only that we are to set course for Mandalore. Something about a Duchess, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la - "Not gone, merely marching far away", a Mandalorian phrase for the departed that, personally, I find hauntingly beautiful  
> Riduurok - Love bond. It is specifically between spouses, so it's a marriage agreement  
> Keldabe kiss - Technically, the term "Keldabe kiss" is a slang for the "kov'nyn" which is literally a headbutt. However, since Mandalorian couples in full armor use to gently butt helmets as a sign of affection, it became known as a general way to show affection between Mandalorians. I love it, so in this fic a Keldabe is considered as an extremely intimate gesture to share with someone else.  
> Janad - Spicy. Yes, I know, red hair=spicy. Hurray for my originality


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cody is a little confused and Mandalore is not what it was supposed to be, but it doesn't mean Cody won't be the gentleman he is. Obi-Wan does what needs to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably my favorite so far. It kept going and when I searched for things to cut here and there, I realized there was no need. This is what I want you guys to read, this is what I want to write. Hope you like it!
> 
> PS: I messed around a bit with the Mandalore Plot and all that stuff to suit my purposes. Please, don't sue me.

Mandalore is...not what Cody expected it to be.

The Template used to describe the fort-city of Keldabe, its river and woods, the hundred-meter-tall tower one could see from any point in the city, its markets and streets, and the picture his words created was majestic. The _vode_ had listened as the city they had never seen came to life for them from the memories of the Template. They could almost see the streets packed full of armor-clad _Mando’ade_ , the markets teemed with vendors shouting their prices over the loud voices of the people crowding their stalls.

Likewise, the Template had made sure to tell them about all the other cities on the planet. He told them about Sundari and Ronion, and the thousand other cities that made up the homeworld of the _Mando’ade,_ scarred as it was . He’d even showed them holo-pictures that helped cement into their minds what their planet looked liked. And it was _their_ planet. The Template had been merciless in his training and selection of the _vode_ , but for all his faults he had always stressed to them how they were _Mando’ade_ in every sense, how _Manda’yaim_ was their planet as much as any other _Mando’ad._

Cody knew not to expect things to be exactly like in the holo-pictures he remembered. After all, while accurate, pictures could never properly capture the life of a city on their surfaces. He knew things would be different, perhaps the buildings would be different, some streets would be lined with different stores. But the people. Cody had expected the people to be the same. He’d expected them to be like the Template and the _Cuy’val Dar_ , Mandalorians born and raised with values and morals Cody and his _vode_ could share.

As he walks through the crowded streets of Sundari, Cody thinks he has never been more wrong about something.

Face hidden behind his helmet, Cody feels the stares of the people around him as if they were physical touches. It’s nothing new, really, he’s used to people staring at him and his brothers wherever they go. The armor alone separates him from the rest of the people, white plastoid a stark contrast to the silks usually worn by common citizens. To say nothing of what happens when his helmet comes off, especially if he’s standing next to his brothers. The people of the Republic sure loved how he and his brothers fought in their stead, but they certainly didn’t like to see their faces. Mandalore, while not part of the Republic, seems to share that same characteristic.

“ _Something’s wrong._ ”

Boil’s voice crackles through the internal comm of Cody’s helmet. He turns slightly, catching sight of familiar gold markings on a white armor on the other side of the street, next to a small stall that sells strange-looking fruits. Cody looks for the source of his brother’s distress, but the street seems peaceful enough to him.

“What do you see?” He asks, not dropping his guard.

“ _What_ _I_ don’t _see_.” Boil grumbles.

Cody frowns. “Meaning?”

From the other side of the street, Boil turns around and stares at Cody, and the Commander just knows that there must be a sneer curling Boil’s lips in distaste. The animosity in his voice is telling enough.

“ _Where are the armors_?” Boil subtly gestures around himself. “ _Seriously, we’re in Mandalore’s capital city and there’s no trace of_ beskar _around. Anywhere. I’ve looked!_ ”

“ _Maybe they don’t like walking around in armor_ ,” Waxer’s voice sounds tentative over the comm.

Boil snorts derisively, “ _If a Mandalorian doesn’t like armor than they are no Mandalorian at all._ ”

There’s a beat of silence before Wooley speaks up, “ _I hate to say it, but he’s got a point._ ”

“ _Thank you. And what do you mean ‘I hate to say it’?_ ”

Cody lets his brothers’ voices fade into the background. Truthfully, he’s with Boil on this one. It’s the first thing he noticed when they landed in Sundari, and it’s the reason he feels so out of place. No one wears armor, which is so completely wrong. Cody remembers how proud the Template was of his _beskar’gam_ , rightfully so as its craftsmanship had been superb. He remembers spending hours observing the Template clean and care for his armor as if it were a living thing, not just a mass of _beskar_ . In a way, Mandalorian armors are living things, passed down from generation to generation, worn by different warriors who share the same loyalty to what being a _Mando’ad_ means.

But these so-called New Mandalorians don’t wear armor. Instead, they drape themselves in light dresses and tunics. They don’t display their clans’ colors, they don’t conceal weapons on their person and they speak in Basic, very rarely uttering a word in accented _Mando’a_ so different from the Concordian dialect the Template taught the _vode_ . Even Obi-Wan, who isn’t Mandalorian (and Cody wants to do some research on that, because the more he observes his Jedi, the more he feels he understands what the Template meant when he spoke of _mandokar_ ), speaks a more fluent _Mando’a_ than the people surrounding Cody.

And there’s another thing that bothers him, probably more than anything else.

“I’m more concerned by the fact that they all look the same,” Cody utters in his comm.

The silence that follows his words, is one Cody expects. He knows that it’s rich coming from literal clones of a single man, but it’s the truth. Cody has never seen himself when gazing into the eyes of a brother. Each brother is unique, and not just because of different hair-styles and colors, tattoos and armors, but because they themselves are different people. The Mandalorians walking in the streets, here in Sundari, seem to Cody to be the exact same person, just with slight variations in facial expressions and body shape. Not to mention the fact that basically everyone is a baseline human, with blond hair, blue eyes and pale skin.

It’s incomprehensible to Cody who has been taught that one isn’t born Mandalorian (at least not exclusively), because Mandalorian didn’t indicate a race, but a culture and state of mind. The Template had been born on Concord Dawn, but in the _Cuy’val Dar_ there had been Togrutas, Zabraks, Bothans and even an unforgettable Chistori. Everyone was welcome in the arms of Mandalore, as long as they dedicated themselves to _Manda_ and followed the _Resol’nare_.

How is it possible that here, in the heart of Mandalore, everyone is human? Cody finds it troubling to say the least.

“ _I agree, sir,_ ” Waxer’s voice states quietly in his ear. “ _It’s certainly...eerie._ ”

That’s one word for it.

As soon as Obi-Wan had informed him on the details of their new mission on Mandalore, Cody had read up on the state of the planet. At the time, the Template had briefly mentioned a Civil War happening on Mandalore between pacifists and traditionalists, but he had never gone into detail. After getting his information, Cody can understand why. Chaos is the only word that can aptly describe the entire thing. The traditionalists who swore to uphold the tenets of Mandalorian life and culture, were nothing more than glorified mercenaries who thought brute force was the only way to rule, disregarding any notion of honor and civility that true Mandalorians lived for.

The pacifists on the other hand…

It’s safe to say that Cody just doesn’t understand pacifism at all, and he’s not entirely sure that it is a reflection of the fact that he’s been created to fight. Doing research he’d found speeches held by Duchess Kryze as she rallied the Mandalorians to her side, and while her words sounded nice, the state of Mandalore now that her policies had been put into place didn’t seem optimal to Cody. He doesn’t know what to make of the Duchess, but it seems to him that her pacifism is bringing about the erasure of Mandalorian culture has it has been for thousands of years.

It makes Cody uncomfortable and it makes him wonder what Obi-Wan thinks about all of this. And that’s another thing Cody wants to understand. What’s the relationship between Obi-Wan and the Duchess. They obviously know each-other, otherwise his Jedi wouldn’t have felt so pressed to help Mandalore on a time constraint. But is that all there is? Obi-Wan wouldn’t help Mandalore investigate on Death Watch, and then fight against said Death Watch on Concordia, just for anybody.

“ _Commander, sir. Ready to report_.”

Cody leaves his speculations behind as one of his men’s voices asks for his attention. “Tantrum.” He acknowledges. “Proceed. Did you find anything?”

“ _Negative, sir. No sign of Death Watch in this sector._ ”

“Good. Set up a guard rotation and coordinate with the squads in the other sectors. Tomorrow morning we move the Duchess and I don’t want any trouble.” He states his orders quickly, pleased to know that the city is safe. At least for the moment.

“ _Understood, sir_.”

Tantrum closes the comm-line, following his orders.

Cody signals his brothers to leave their stations and go back to the palace to rendezvous with their General. Obi-Wan had given orders to scour the city in search of any Death Watch cultists to avoid other attacks on the Duchess, and Cody and several other men had jumped at the occasion to walk through the streets of the city. Their General had let them decide how to organize the search parties by themselves, giving them freedom to experience for themselves a part of their culture the Jedi couldn’t have offered them in any other occasion.

Thoughts of Obi-Wan inevitably lead Cody to think about their courting. He smiles to himself, pleased with all the progress he’s made on that front. The hyperspace jump to Mandalore had taken three days, and Cody had been more than ready to spend those three days furthering his advances on Obi-Wan. He feels warmth coil deep in his belly as he remembers the pleasurable moments spent with his Jedi.

Cody hadn’t presumed that one kiss meant he could just push Obi-Wan and demand more kisses from him; that is not the kind of relationship he wants to build with him. He did however use that first kiss as an entry point to discover how far he could push his luck with his Jedi.

In three days, Cody had found numerous ways to be alone with Obi-Wan and initiate contact with him. Obi-Wan felt always tentative in the way he responded to physical touches, as if he himself was trying to figure out what kind of touches Cody would respond better to. Cody had half a mind to tell him any kind of contact would be much appreciated, but he figured it was best to let Obi-Wan proceed at his speed and allow him his comforts.

Besides, it didn’t mean that Obi-Wan didn’t respond to his advances.

Cody had initially thought he could steal one or two chaste kisses here and there (Mandalorian Courting didn’t prohibit kisses or even sex with one’s intended before its completion; Cody just felt Obi-Wan required the slow kind of Courting one read about in holo-novels). However, if Obi-Wan felt tentative at first, he quickly let himself go when he realized Cody was more than happy to let things proceed at whichever speed Obi-Wan preferred.

Now, Cody had kissed other people before Obi-Wan, and he liked to think that he knew what he was doing. Fighting in a war didn’t exactly leave a trooper with that much time to find partners with whom to get some experience, so Cody figured he’d learned as much as he could with the partners he’d been able to find. He’d been wrong. Kissing had always been something to do that would lead to sex and that was that. Obi-Wan didn’t seem to share that belief. Kissing with him felt more like a stroll than a race toward a goal.

The first time he’d felt Obi-Wan’s tongue trace his lower lip, Cody had scarcely believed his luck. He’d thought sex would have been further down the road for them. He’d been quick to jump at the opportunity, though, kissing Obi-Wan back with equal fervor. Cody had tried to speed things along, stocking the heat between them. Obi-Wan, however, had refused to go along with his plans. Calmly but firmly, he’d led Cody through a thorough exploration of each other’s mouths. When, at last, Obi-Wan had pulled back and asked him if he wanted some tea, Cody had been unable to string two words together, nodding mutely.

Afterwards, Cody had felt confused (how had he not realized that he and Obi-Wan had been kissing for so many uninterrupted minutes?) and intrigued, even excited. The Kaminoans had engineered the _vode_ to be quick learners, and kissing like this was something Cody was determined to master. It did help that Obi-Wan seemed eager to teach.

In those three days of hyperspace travel, Cody had been able to steal far more than one or two kisses.

The walk back to the palace is quick and soon Cody is walking down the long corridor that leads to the quarters assigned to Obi-Wan for their brief stay in Sundari. Boil, Waxer and Longshot have gone to the landing pad to meet with the dispatch from the 501 st  that converged on their position. Once news of the attack on the Duchess had reached Coruscant, the Senate had decided that she would need all the protection available. Assigning two Jedi, a Knight and a Master, had been declared all the protection she would need.

Cody stops right outside Obi-Wan’s quarters and knocks on the door. A muffled ‘come in’ comes from inside, prompting him to open the door and step into the room.

Obi-Wan stands in the small kitchenette in a corner of the room, preparing two cups of tea. Cody smiles at that. Before meeting Obi-Wan, he hadn’t even known what tea was, already well into his caf addiction. Slowly, he’s starting to understand why Obi-Wan drinks at least three cups of the stuff a day. Caf always tastes the same, tea comes in many different flavors. Admittedly, some of those flavors are atrocious (Cody still hasn’t forgiven Obi-Wan for serving him a tea originating from Dagobah), but for the most part, he can admit tea is a good alternative to his beloved caf.

“We finished inspecting the city. We didn’t find any trace of Death Watch.” Cody takes off his helmet and sets it on the couch by the low table where Obi-Wan already prepared his tea-set. “The men are setting up a guard rotation to make sure nothing happens tomorrow.”

“Excellent work as always, Cody.”

Obi-Wan carries a pot filled with hot water to the table. With precise movements performed many times in his life, he prepares two cups of tea. He passes one to Cody who takes it in his hands and observes how the leaves slowly tinge the water a deep blue color.

“I strongly suggest you add at least a spoonful of sugar,” Obi-Wan cautions him.

Cody watches his retreating back as Obi-Wan walks back to the kitchenette to clean the pot of tea, and takes his chance. He brings the cup closer to his face and smells the tea. A bit pungent, perhaps, but as he eyes the darkening water, it seems innocuous to him so he takes a careful sip.

_Mistake! Mistake! Little Gods!_

With trembling hands, Cody sets down the cup of tea. He palms at his eyes, brushing away the tears that already stream down his cheeks. He pants wetly against the undefinable taste that has taken residence inside his mouth, body shaking uncontrollably. This is not how he imagined dying, poisoned by his own General with tea of all things. The tears just won’t stop and on top of everything, he’s starting to feel hotter than a day on Ryloth.

“I hope this serves as a lesson for you.” Obi-Wan sits down across from him, pushing a glass of blue-milk toward him. “Drink this before you go into shock.”

Cody isn’t thrilled at the idea of drinking something given to him by Obi-Wan, considering the state he’s in now. He holds out for a long moment, eyes trained on Obi-Wan through the haze created by his tears. He can barely see his Jedi but he he’s absolutely sure Obi-Wan is looking at him with an unimpressed raised eyebrow. Cody hates to be the aim of such disappointment, it feels like a personal failure to him, so he caves and grabs the glass of blue-milk. He also feels like he’s about one second away from vomiting so he’s not about to take his chances.

The relief is immediate. He can’t taste the blue-milk at all, but it somehow erases the awful taste of the tea. It leaves his mouth feeling blessedly numb. Cody chugs the whole glass down in a matter of seconds, reveling in the fact that he didn’t die. He sets the glass down, focusing now on drying his tears. The sound of a tissue snapping in the air makes him look up only to find Obi-Wan offering him a handkerchief. Cody accepts the offer gingerly, quickly patting his eyes dry feeling embarrassed beyond belief.

Once he feels as composed as he possibly can be after the disaster that just occurred, Cody folds the handkerchief and faces Obi-Wan.

“What was that?” His voice sounds pretty rough.

Obi-Wan purses his lips. “It’s a brand of tea Master Plo Koon was kind enough to procure for me when he went back to his homeplanet, Dorin. Drunk as is, it is quite toxic for humanoid species, though not lethal. Sugar counteracts the many unpleasant side-effects one would experience drinking it raw.” He pointedly looks at Cody as he pours a spoonful of sugar in his tea, calmly stirring it exactly three times before taking a long sip.

Cody expects him to go through the same ordeal he experienced. Instead, Obi-Wan closes his eyes and sighs deeply as he swallows the liquid. He keeps his eyes closed, taking long sips of his tea until his cup is completely empty. Only then, does he open his eyes.

“Are you not going to drink yours?” He asks, voice and body completely relaxed.

Cody eyes the cup resting innocently on the table. “If it’s the same to you, I would rather pass this time.”

Obi-Wan exhales a heavy breath, shaking his head dejectedly. “I knew I should have served you a cup with sugar already in it. You have _no idea_ what you’re missing.”

The Commander raises his hands in surrender. “I’m not saying I will never drink it again. Just not now. I think I’m fine for the moment.”

Obi-Wan sniffs at his words, standing up and gathering the tea cups to go wash them up. Cody eyes the way his Jedi walks, steps all slow and back not as ramrod straight as usual, and an unbidden thought comes forward in his mind. He follows the motion of Obi-Wan’s hands as he methodically washes his cup of tea, waiting to see if things develop the way he suspects. His Jedi takes Cody’s cup in hands and brings to his nose, inhaling the strong aroma of tea. He looks at the deep blue liquid for a long moment before sighing and pouring it down the drain.

Cody stands up and walks up to him, stopping right behind Obi-Wan. He’s close enough to feel the heat coming off his Jedi’s body, but not so close as to make him feel crowded. Gently, he puts his hands on Obi-Wan’s hips in a gesture he’d dreamed of many times and only now is allowed to make. He smiles in elation when Obi-Wan leans back into him, shoulders pressing softly against Cody’s chest.

“You could have drank my cup as well if you like the taste so much,” he murmurs.

Obi-Wan shakes his head and finishes cleaning the cup of tea. “It’s best not to exceed when drinking Dorin’s tea. Trust me, you don’t want to know what happens then.”

Cody squeezes his Jedi’s hips and waits for him to dry the cup and set it down, before urging him to turn around. Obi-Wan does so without protesting, his arms even come up to rest lazily around Cody’s shoulders. His Jedi is all loose limbs and pliant in his arms, which only makes Cody’s suspicions shoot higher and higher. He takes one hand away from Obi-Wan’s hips and cups his face instead, thumbing his cheek right under his eye.

“Why do you sound and look drunk after a simple cup of tea?” Cody stares deeply into his Jedi’s eyes. There’s no abnormal pupil dilation, but something is clearly up with him.

Obi-Wan’s lips stretch into a slow smile that makes something clench deep in Cody’s stomach. “I assure you, my dear Commander, that there was nothing mixed with the tea. It’s just that it was not originally prepared for humanoid species.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that the substances in it, while having no effect on Keldors besides that of a light relaxant, have a very interesting effect on humanoids.” Obi-Wan traces his nose lightly over Cody’s scar on the left side of his face.

“So you just drugged yourself?” Cody asks incredulously.

Obi-Wan leans back in his arms, an offended look taking residence in his eyes. “I most certainly haven’t. The tea merely mimics the effect of one or two glasses of wine. It’s completely innocuous. It simply helps making one relax, without any of the horrible side-effects of alcohol consumption.” Apparently already over the brief offense, Obi-Wan goes back to nosing his scar, this time taking the time to rub their cheeks together, making Cody shiver at the feel of beard against naked skin. “I bet you regret not drinking it with sugar now, don’t you?”

Cody doesn’t answer, mind already set on discovering the name of this tea. If this is the effect it has, Cody is going to make sure it’s always available for his Jedi. On second thought, it could also have some interesting applications for some of his subordinates. Cody could really use an unsuspecting way of getting rid of his brothers when he wants to be left well and truly alone, no jokes, no double entendres, no nothing; just peace and quiet. It sounds like a dream. He’s definitely stocking up on this tea.

Obi-Wan squirms against him, huffing an annoyed breath.

“What’s the matter?”

His Jedi huffs again. “It’s hard…”

Cody promptly chokes on his saliva. “I...well...I mean,” he stutters, surprised by Obi-Wan’s candor.

Obi-Wan is not entirely wrong, though Cody doesn’t think he’s that much into trouble that his Jedi would be able to feel him through his armor. Perhaps he is broadcasting so much that his Jedi picked up on his desire. Stars, but Cody thinks he’s more than justified in this instance. Obi-Wan is plastered to him and Cody can’t do much to ignore the way the other man’s body feels against him; hard muscles, slim hips, the enticing scent of his hair practically plastered under his nose with the way Obi-Wan just rubs against him. All the squirming isn’t helping either.

A hand creeps up behind him, fingers sliding under the buckles that keep Cody’s chest plate in place.

“Uh...Obi-Wan?” Cody asks, insecure where this is going.

“Your armor’s too hard.” Obi-Wan grumbles under his breath. “You need to take it off.”

Cody’s heart lurches in his chest.

“Do I?”

Obi-Wan nods against him and starts to walk him toward the sofa where they had previously been sitting to drink their tea. Once there, he once again tugs at the buckles, a frown marring his features.

“Duchess Satine has demanded my presence at late-meal today but there is nothing planned for this afternoon, which means that we have some time to kill.” He says this while slowly divesting Cody of his armor.

“That why you decided to break out your special tea?” Obi-Wan is called the Negotiator for a reason, but that doesn’t mean that he’s fond of dinners with politicians.

Obi-Wan has managed to pry-off Cody’s chest plate, carefully setting it down on the low table next to the sofa. “There’s nothing wrong with a little liquid courage.” He sniffs, hands already working on the buckles securing the armor to Cody’s arms.

The Commander laughs under his breath, quick to comply with Obi-Wan’s desire to get him out of his armor. Things are progressing quite fast in a direction Cody hadn’t imagined five minutes ago, but he’s not about to stop his Jedi. Obi-Wan has said that the tea only mimics the effects of alcohol, so it is safe to say that he knows what he’s doing. If he’s not, Cody is ready to push the break at any moment.

Once the armor is off, Obi-Wan pushes Cody onto the sofa, encouraging him to lay on his back. Cody lets himself be manhandled, eager to see where this is going. Perhaps he’s misjudged Obi-Wan and his need to take things slowly. Cody has started the Courtship thinking of nothing but his Jedi’s comfort, ready to wait on him for as long as needed, but if these are Obi-Wan’s intentions, then Cody’s going to match his speed with no complaint.

Once Obi-Wan is done arranging him on the sofa, he crawls on top of Cody and, oh isn’t that a sight to behold. Cody watches enraptured as his Jedi tucks himself into place between the back of the sofa and Cody’s own side. His arms, once again, rise to encircle the Commander’s neck and Cody has to hold his breath as Obi-Wan wiggles against him, prompting him to open his arms and hug the Jedi close to his body making it so the other man is lying half on top of him. Obi-Wan looks up at him with a lazy smile before pushing himself up and taking Cody’s lips in a slow kiss that has the Commander’s toes curling in his socks.

Cody relaxes against the arms tucked securely under his head, slipping his tongue into Obi-Wan’s mouth and swallowing the small gasp that follows. It’s his turn to gasp when his Jedi pulls back and leaves a trail of barely there kisses down his throat. He stops for a moment at the base of Cody’s throat, worrying the skin there between his lips, not enough to leave a mark, but definitely enough to make goosebumps break out all over Cody’s body. The Commander tilts his head back, hoping that providing more space will equal Obi-Wan never taking his lips off him.

He pulls back anyway, breathing out a small laugh when Cody grumbles at that, and shuffles down a bit until he’s situated at the perfect height to tuck his head against Cody’s throat. The Commander waits patiently, barely restraining his curiosity and looking forward to see what his Jedi will come up with next. When it becomes clear that Obi-Wan isn’t planning on doing anything, Cody decides that an explanation is in order.

“Obi-Wan?” he asks, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Hmm?” Obi-Wan hums, moving around a little and releasing a happy sigh when he finds the perfect position.

Cody takes a moment to wonder how he’s supposed to phrase his next question. He feels a little off kilter. Has he misread Obi-Wan’s intentions? He’d been sure that things were heading in a decidedly... _sexy_ direction, but now he’s starting to doubt that. Maybe sex hadn’t been on Obi-Wan’s mind when he decided Cody needed to wear less armor. But then what about a heavy make-out session? Is that not something Obi-Wan wants? His kisses surely had seemed to indicate that?

He glances down at the head of copper hair resting peacefully against him and, well, this is certainly enjoyable but Cody still feels confused.

“I thought you wanted to kill time?”

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath against him, making Cody twitch when he breathes out against his neck. “Yes,” he sighs. “I need to be fully rested and relaxed if I want to survive late-meal. Duchess Satine is not one for mincing her words and, trust me, she has a lot of things she undoubtedly wants to say.”

The Commander frowns at the bitterness he can hear in his Jedi’s voice. “That bad? Sorry I can’t help you there.”

“Didn’t I tell you? Your presence has been requested as well.”

Cody brings his right hand up to his mouth and uses his teeth to take off his glove, throwing the garment on the floor so he can bury his fingers in Obi-Wan’s hair.

“Oh?” The strands of hair part neatly as Cody gently pets it. “By whom?”

“By me, of course.” Obi-Wan’s words are just a little slurred as he practically purrs.

“I feel honored, sir.” Cody smiles at the way his Jedi has turned into a tooka just from the feeling of fingers running through his hair.

There’s only silence after that, punctuated by little sighs and the sound of hands running over bodies. Cody still feels a little confused, but he supposes things aren’t so bad even though they’re different to what he had initially imagined. Obi-Wan’s body feels solid and warm at his side, and his hand is nothing short of glorious when it caresses him from chest to hip, all wonderful pressure and Cody doesn’t need any mysterious Force to feel the deep affection in the way Obi-Wan touches him. Cody’s not afraid to arch into that hand, a pleasant warmth settling deep within him. At a certain point, Obi-Wan sneaks a hand into his hair and starts massaging his scalp and that...that feel really nice.

Yeah...it’s not what he had expected to be doing, but it’s really not bad. Not bad at all.

By the time late-meal comes around, Cody has all but pushed his confusion to the back of his mind, ready to be analyzed at a more opportune moment. He needs to focus on the meal he’s about to take with the Duchess of Mandalore of all people.

Dressed in his formal grays, epaulettes and braids included, Cody has the awful feeling of marching toward a battlefield without his armor on. It’s not the first time he’s had to appear at a formal dinner, but the company is not what he’s used to. Observing how Obi-Wan dealt with the politicians and heads of state he met has given Cody reasonable experience on how to move among them. A Duchess, however, is an entirely different thing.

Standing outside the private chambers the Duchess has chosen to host their meal, Cody takes comfort in Obi-Wan’s steady and calm presence by his side. His Jedi looks relaxed, shoulders and back straight in a perfect posture that betrays nothing but confidence. Obi-Wan is dressed in his usual Jedi garbs, cream tunics perfectly pressed and brown robe swishing softly every time he moves. Cody has to give credit where credit is due, his brothers had been right when they said that the brown under-tunic really did wonders for Obi-Wan’s complexion.

The Commander allows himself a moment to mourn the absence of both their armors. Cody always feels more comfortable encased in his armor, but this time what pains him is not the loss of comfort as much as the fact that he can’t show off the coordinated paint-job on him and Obi-Wan. These New Mandalorians may have chosen to set aside centuries-old traditions, but Cody feels confident that they would have recognized the golden lines for what they were.

“What?” Obi-Wan turns to look at him, no doubt having noticed the long stare Cody had aimed at him.

“Nothing.” And then, because soon he will have to hide behind a professional facade, Cody adds, “I was just thinking that you look very beautiful tonight.”

Obi-Wan’s cheeks turn a violent shade of red. It always delights Cody the way Obi-Wan reacts so viscerally to any compliment he pays him. For someone so used to flirting with anyone and anything, his reactions boost Cody’s confidence in his courting.

The double doors in front of them open inwards and an aide steps out, bowing in front of Obi-Wan. Cody doesn’t miss how the young girl ignores his presence. He doesn’t pay her any mind, used to nat-borns treating him like this. Obi-Wan frowns at her, but follows silently behind her when she motions for them to step inside.

“Your Grace, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi from the Jedi Order,” her clear, young voice resonates in the large chamber. After a moment of hesitation, he continues, “...and the clone CC-2224.”

It feels like a slap to the face to hear his designation used to introduce him to the Duchess of Mandalore, but Cody doesn’t allow the slight to show on his face. Expression blank like the _Kaminiise_ taught him, he bows respectfully in front of the ruler of Mandalore. Duchess Satine stands from her high chair and approaches them. She smiles kindly to both of them and holds out her hand for Obi-Wan to take.

“It is a pleasure to have you here this evening.” Her voice, although light and polite, doesn’t disguise the undercurrent of strength in her.

Obi-Wan takes her hand and brushes his lips against her knuckles, quickly and perfunctorily going through the motions of the formal salute due to a Duchess. Cody notices that there’s none of his usual warmth in the way he greets their hosts.

“I wish I could say the same, but already your welcome lacks the warmth and respect I would expect from you.”

Cody barely restrains himself from turning to look at his Jedi. Although his voice has been perfectly kind and a smile lightly touches his lips, Obi-Wan’s words thread the line of open disrespect. For the life of him, Cody doesn’t understand what could posses Obi-Wan to behave like this when he’s usually the first to stress the importance of manners and propriety when addressing politicians of such high standing.

Apparently, Duchess Kryze is equally perturbed.

“What do you mean, Master Jedi?”

“You have disrespected my companion by not addressing him properly,” Obi-Wan’s voice demands no arguments.

Cody glances at his Jedi, chest exploding with affection for the other man. Although most people by now, even nat-borns, speak to the clones using the names they had chosen for themselves, they do so out of fear of the punishment the Generals in the GAR are likely to deliver them. When the moment allows it, nat-borns like to go back to the numerical designation given to all clones by the Kaminoans. In case a high-ranking politician decides to call a trooper by number, no one takes the time to correct them.

No one has ever taken offense for a clone.

“Your companion is a clone, Master Kenobi. As you know, cloning is frowned upon in the Mandalore System.”

The voice speaking up against Obi-Wan belongs to a tall, thin man with short blonde, almost white, hair. He has a prominent nose and a long chin covered in a short, well-kept beard the same color as his hair. Cody, though, recognizes him by the unusual color of his eyes – purple.

 _Prime Minister Almec_.

Obi-Wan fixes his eyes on the taller man, a cold light shining in them. “Regardless of Mandalore’s stance on cloning, you will address my companion with the respect due to any high-ranking officer in the Grand Army of the Republic, and indeed to any sentient being in the Galaxy.”

Almec looks ready to start an argument over Obi-Wan’s demand. Cody recognizes that behavior having seen it time and time again in politicians in the Senate, debating over the sentience of the _vode_. All those times, he’d felt a bottomless pit of despair as he listened to speeches detailing all the ways in which he and his brothers didn’t qualify as sentient, only the weak voices of Senators like Amidala and Organa daring to stand up for them. Those times, there had been no silver-tongued Negotiator to verbally eviscerate anyone who dared to belittle the _vode_. How sweet to hear that dear voice shield Cody from another man who thinks he’s better than him just because he came into this world through another person, instead of a tube.

“Gentlemen please, let’s not spoil the evening before it even begins.” The Duchess intervenes before the situation can escalate to dangerous heights. With small, light steps, she stops in front of Cody, looking up at him. “You have my apologies for the unintended disrespect. May I know your name and rank so that we can avoid any future missteps?”

Cody glances over her shoulder at Obi-Wan, silently asking how to best answer without fueling the explosive air in the room. He only needs to capture his Jedi’s eyes for a second to immediately understand what Obi-Wan would do if he were in his place.

Cody straightens his back and clicks his heels, staring unrepentant in Duchess Kryze’s eyes with the kind of boldness that would make a nat-born officer balk. “I’m Marshall Field Commander Cody, Duchess. Second-in-Command of the 3rd  System Army, the 7th  Sky Corps and Commander of the 212th  Attack Battalion and Ghost Company.”

He rattles his titles off smoothly, pride tinging his words. It feels good and empowering to show off in front of people who would have undoubtedly preferred to ignore his presence. The Duchess seems reluctantly impressed and even, dare Cody think it, mortified by the social faux pas committed right at the introductions. Behind her, the Prime Minister looks about ready to choke on a frog, face red and jaw clenched.

“Well then, Commander, you have my most sincere apologies.” The Duchess bends her head in a small bow, quickly recovering from her embarrassment.

With the benevolent grace he’s learned to imitate by watching Obi-Wan calm down the flustered politicians he’s just talked circles around, Cody raises a hand and speaks peacefully, “It is alright. I appreciate that the disrespect was not due to the desire to insult me or the General, Your Grace.” He remembers to change his way of addressing the Duchess in accordance with the rules Obi-Wan had explained to him.

If the Duchess feels offended by the deliberate implying wording of his phrase, she doesn’t let anyone see that. With one last graceful bow, she encourages all present to take place around the table already set to the side of the high chair she had previously been occupying.

Prime Minister Almec is quick to take his place, together with a few other dignitaries.

Obi-Wan stays still for a moment, allowing everyone else to move away and give them some much needed although short-lived privacy. There’s a cheeky light in his Jedi’s eyes and, Cody thinks, approval for how he dealt with the situation, for how prideful he’d been. He sees a thousand words in Obi-Wan’s eyes, and fondness, and apologies for the way he’s been treated, and promises to never allow anyone to disrespect him like that in Obi-Wan’s presence.

Cody smiles lightly at him, stepping forward and brushing their shoulders together as they simultaneously move to join the others around the table.

The Duchess has, of course, sat down at the head of the table, the Prime Minister immediately to her right. The left is left empty, a clear sign that she wants Obi-Wan to sit next to her. Cody stops behind that seat and pulls back the chair, looking at Obi-Wan as he waits for his Jedi to take his place. There’s no outward sign that he appreciates the courteous gesture (maybe Boil’s idea of looking into Coruscanti’s courting rituals hadn’t been so crazy. Mandalorian Courting will always be the best in Cody’s opinion, but it does tend to be quite bold), but Cody knows he does.

No one needs to know that the way the Duchess and the Prime Minister narrow their eyes makes Cody want to smirk.

The meal, all in all, passes without a hitch. There is an ungodly amount of silverware, each apparently to be used on a specific dish, but Obi-Wan is right beside Cody and his movements are deliberately slow when he picks up his silverware, giving Cody plenty of time to copy him without letting anybody know he has no idea what he’s doing.

The conversation remains light and civil, Cody spending most of the time in silence, just listening to what is being said. For the most part, it’s all empty platitudes with the occasional jab at the war courtesy of Duchess Kryze. It irritates Cody, who doesn’t exactly enjoy fighting in a war but understands that sometimes there is no choice but to fight, and he has the distinct feeling that Obi-Wan is thinking something along the same lines. His Jedi is quick to respond to any jab, defending not just the Jedi Order but the whole GAR.

More than once, Cody wishes he could snap back at some more insulting comments thrown around the table. He restrains himself, however, he knows when he can and should say something and when it’s better to remain silent.

He prefers to focus his attention on the food served. The Template had spoken vaguely of Mandalorian dishes, but Kamino had not been forthcoming on that regard, serving nutrient mush and tasteless bars instead of proper food. The GAR is a bit better on that front, but Mandalorian dishes are certainly not something served in their mess-halls. He spots a familiar-looking stew on the table and immediately serves himself a plate. It only takes one spoonful to confirm that it’s exactly the same dish Obi-Wan made for him and that...that touches something deep within him. He makes a mental note to speak to Obi-Wan about this.

After the meal, they move to a sitting room and start to talk about the upcoming voyage to Coruscant, where Duchess Kryze will have her chance to speak in the Senate to try and keep Mandalore out of the conflict. This time, Cody’s opinion is required and with the calm confidence of a thousand successful battle plans under his belt, the Commander details how they are going to move and guard the Duchess to make sure she reaches her destination unharmed.

The Duchess listens in silence, expression blank, giving no hint as to whether she has something she wants to say or not. Cody, however, has spent so much time learning how to read those around him, and he can tell there is something the Duchess doesn’t like about what he’s saying.

“You don’t seem convinced, Your Grace. If there is something that concerns you about the plans, I would be happy to change things to make everything easier for you.”

The Duchess smiles kindly at him and shakes her head. “Your plan sounds perfect, Commander. I am simply weary of the presence of so many armed men here on Mandalore and during the journey. In my experience, soldiers tend to attract conflict and that is something I wish to avoid at all costs.”

It’s the first time Cody finds himself dealing with a pacifist, and his immediate response is confusion. Soldiers don’t attract conflict, they provide a defense against it. Cody is willing to entertain the thought that the _vode_ have been bred for war, so maybe that plays a part in his thought process, but he’s fairly certain he would think this way even if he hadn’t been decanted to fight. _Mando’ade_ have fighting in their blood, it’s their way of life, Cody doesn’t see any other way of living. The Duchess is a pacifist, but she’s also a _Mando’ad_ , surely she can understand this.

“Your Grace, Mandalore is a neutral system, but you are an important political figure and we are going to travel along hyperspace lanes subjected to attacks from the CIS. My brothers and I only wish to see you safely to Coruscant, we don’t wish to attract danger onto you or your retinue.” Cody thinks he’s done a good job sounding reasonable without offending anyone. “ _Mando’ade cabu’o Mando’ade_ ,” he adds, hoping to ease her worries.

“Do not speak _Mando’a_ to us, clone,” Prime Minister Almec spits venomously. “Especially not when you show others the face of a man who pretended to be Mando when he had no right to do it.”

The Duchess turns to look at her Prime Minister, but does not speak. Some of the others in attendance nod at Almec’s words, agreeing with him. Cody is left reeling, incapable of understanding what is happening. Never has he felt so out of place and out of balance. How is it that mere words have managed to do what mortar shots and artillery fire have never been able to accomplish?

“Pardon me, Prime Minister,” Obi-Wan’s voice is a lightsaber cutting through a droid like butter, calm and deadly. “If I remember correctly, Jango Fett’s _buir_ was Jaster Mereel, correct? Was Jaster not the _Mand’alor?_ Was he not killed during the Battle of Korda Six, where he was succeeded by his son? Had it not been for Galidraan, Jango would probably still be your _Mand’alor_.”

“How dare you…” Almec growls, face turning red.

“Furthermore, don’t Mandalorians pride themselves in accepting everyone among their ranks? Or does the _Cin_ _Vhetin_ apply only to those you yourself deem worthy, Prime Minister?” Obi-Wan continues, undeterred. “Jango Fett may not have been born Mandalorian, but he lived as one and passed on his Mandalorian culture and traditions to those who would listen and adopt it.”

“That is true,” Satine speaks up, finally. “However, Jango Fett remains a brute, a bounty hunter set on the ways of old Mandalore. His culture of violence is not one we wish to see perpetuated. Now there are millions of Jango Fetts running around the Galaxy, all believing and following old traditions that would better be forgotten.”

_I’m not Jango Fett._

Obi-Wan snorts derisively, “Honestly, Duchess, I think you are exaggerating. You speak as if Fett somehow indoctrinated millions of people and then unleashed them on the Galaxy hoping to recreate Mandalore.”

 _I’m not Jango Fett_.

“I think you underestimate the consequences of Jango’s teachings. I will not have Mandalore fall back into the dark pit of violence and clan disputes!” Duchess Kryze stands up, words flying from her mouths with vehemence.

_I’ m not Jango Fett._

Obi-Wan stands up too, unwilling to back down from his position. “And I will not have you demeaning my men, reducing their identity to that of a single man!”

“Jango Fett-”

“I am not Jango Fett!”

At Cody’s outburst, silence falls in the room. Everyone turns to look at him. Cody can only stare at the Duchess of Mandalore, fists clenched at his side, trembling with pent-up rage.

“I’m not Jango Fett,” he repeats, forcing himself to pronounce the name of the Template. “None of my brothers are. We are men, each and every one of us. We are _Mando’ade_ , we always will be, whether all of you recognize that or not.”

Obi-Wan moves closer to him, a silent but much appreciated support. For once, Prime Minister Almec seems to be at a loss for words. Duchess Kryze looks positively aghast, eyes wide and mouth a thin, uncompromising line. Cody finds himself not caring whether he has just jeopardized the entire operation, he wouldn’t regret his words, no matter the consequences. He hopes that Obi-Wan agrees with him, that he hasn’t just created a fracture in their budding relationship.

“If you will excuse me, Your Grace. I would like to retire for the evening. We have an early morning tomorrow.”

Cody waits for the Duchess to nod in his directions, before turning around and leaving the room. Soft footsteps slightly behind him alert him to the fact that Obi-Wan his right there by his side. It’s a relief. If his Jedi is following him instead of remaining with those politicians, then it means things are still okay between them.

The walk back to Cody’s assigned quarters is silent, the Commander mulling over what has been said over the course of the meal, the not so subtle rejection of his _vode_ on the part of a planet they think of as a possible home, hope refusing to die in their hearts. Cody wonders whether he should tell their brothers what these Mandalorians think of all of them, or if he should just let them have their hope.

Caught up in his own thoughts, Cody doesn’t realize he’s standing still in front of his door, staring at it unblinkingly, until a hand rests lightly on his arm.

There’s sadness in Obi-Wan’s eyes when Cody looks at him, and it leaves him confused. Why would Obi-Wan be sad?

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Cody,” his Jedi speaks softly. “I thought Satine would show more compassion than that.”

Cody thinks it’s curious how Obi-Wan calls the Duchess by name, but he’s too drained to pursue that line of thought and find out how that came to be.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

The Commander releases a slow breath, “No, it’s alright. We should both go to sleep. We need to be fully rested for tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

It’s only later, laying down on his bed and staring at the ceiling waiting for sleep to come, that Cody realizes he never managed to ask Obi-Wan about the stew.

In the end, the voyage to Coruscant is not the quiet affair Cody had hoped it would be.

Halfway there they get attacked thanks to the betrayal of one of the Senators in the Duchess’ retinue, Tal Merrik. While Cody, together with Rex and General Skywalker, deals with the assassin droids in the cargo bay of the _Coronet_ , Obi-Wan manages to protect the Duchess and, in the end, General Skywalker kills Merrik before he can blow all of them up. Cody would have preferred to capture the man and interrogate him, but this time he has to admit that Skywalker made the right call. The risk of all of them dying had simply been too high.

Cody had almost always been separated from Obi-Wan during the mission, which hadn’t exactly made him worry (Obi-Wan has survived decades without him so Cody knows there’s nothing to worry about), but it did leave him restless. Even though he hadn’t been present, his brothers had taken it upon themselves to update him on the situation through the cams in their helmets. That’s how Cody came to know things that he really shouldn’t have learned like this, things that Obi-Wan would have probably discussed with him when the time was right.

It’s for this reason that he’s looking for Obi-Wan now that things are finally calming down.

The damage to the _Coronet_ had been too extensive to repair. The _vode_ had managed to patch it up enough to comm the _Negotiator_ and request a pick-up. In a few hours, everyone had been relocated to the _Negotiator_ and Cody had made sure to find appropriate quarters for the Duchess and the other Senators. Some brothers, Cody included, had to give up their private quarters for a few days but there was simply no other solution.

It’s deep into the night-cycle now, but Cody is sure Obi-Wan isn’t sleeping yet. With everything that happened, there are reports to fill and the Senators would need to be looked after and reassured that everything is under control. But apart from all that, Cody knows that Obi-Wan will find a nice secluded corner for himself to meditate on the day’s happenings. Usually he meditated in his quarters, but on particularly eventful days, Cody knows his Jedi prefers to meditate somewhere on the ship, possibly a rec-room with a nice window giving a view on the stunning spectacle of hyperspace travel.

Cody has already checked several rec-rooms when he finally finds Obi-Wan. Except he’s not alone. Duchess Kryze is with him. Cody hides behind a corner, unsure if he’s intruding on a private moment he shouldn’t witness.

“Are you satisfied with your quarters, Duchess?” Obi-Wan’s voice is tired.

“I am.”

The Duchess moves closer and sits on the bench overlooking the vast window. Cody notices pieces of Obi-Wan’s armor stacked neatly on top of it – his boots, greaves and cuisses. Obi-Wan remains standing, back straight, shoulders back and hands clasped behind him. On the floor next to him is his meditation mat, signaling that Cody had been right.

“I suspect your Commander gave me his quarters. Was that your idea?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head without turning, “It was all him. Good man, that Cody.”

There’s such fondness in his voice, Cody knows a soft smile must have appeared on his face to match it.

The Duchess spends a long moment gazing at the light of the hyperspace jump, her features softly illuminated by the blue, shifting light.

“I believe I owe you an apology, Obi-Wan.” Cody doesn’t miss the use of his Jedi’s name, like they are familiar with each other. “It was wrong of me and my advisors to treat the Commander in that way. I am deeply sorry.”

“You should offer that apology to him then, not me.” Obi-Wan still doesn’t turn around.

She tilts her head slightly forward. “I will. But I think, all things considered, that I owe it to you as well.”

At this, Obi-Wan does turn around but from where Cody is standing (far to their right), he cannot see what expression is on his face.

“What do you mean?”

Instead of answering immediately, the Duchess looks wistfully at the pieces of armor next to her. With an elegant finger, she traces the golden lines painted on the white surface. Cody has to tamp down on the irrational urge to slap her hand away. “Initially, I thought these were just a way for you to respect your men.” She locks eyes with Obi-Wan. “But then I saw his armor.”

“Satine…”

The Duchess releasing a breathy laugh, her eyes going back to the stripes on the armor. “Mandalore may have turned on a new page, but we still remember the old traditions. You wearing his colors is a clear statement from both of you.”

Obi-Wan remains silent and when it’s clear he won’t say anything, the Duchess stands up and joins him at the window. She raises her arms to hug her small frame, a sort of resigned sadness enveloping her.

“I always knew you would find someone else, but it still hurts. I guess, I always thought there would be time for us.”

Obi-Wan shifts his weight from one leg to the other, fidgeting in a way Cody has never been witness to before. The conversation is incredibly private, and the Commander only wishes he could leave them to it, but if he moves now they would know he’s listened to everything. Cody grimaces. He came looking for Obi-Wan because he’d been made privy to things he shouldn’t have known, and now he’s in the exact same situation.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Satine.”

“Does he know? About you?” she asks abruptly, but not unkindly.

Obi-Wan’s frame goes rigid. “No.”

The Duchess turns fully towards him, revealing concerned yet hard eyes to Cody. “You can’t hide it from him, Obi-Wan. Not like you did with me.”

“I never hid anything from you,” his Jedi snaps back immediately, voice strong. “I was trying to figure things out myself. I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry if I made you feel undesirable.”

“Thank you.” She accepts the apology with a slight tilt of her head. “Still...you need to tell him. He has the right to know.”

Obi-Wan whirls toward her, hands clenching so tight behind his back that his knuckles are going white. “You think I don’t know that?” Despite his sudden reaction, his voice is incredibly soft. He gazes at the Duchess for a long time, slowly calming down, until he releases a deep sigh. “I will tell him soon.” He pauses for another moment, then he looks at her once again. “I know I wasn’t enough for you. Maybe...I can be enough for him.”

“I never said you weren’t enough.” The Duchess is quick to intervene.

“You didn’t have to.”

After that, there is only silence.

Soon, the Duchess leave, and Cody is left wondering what he should do. He’s just been witness to an incredibly private conversation between two people who had clearly been together long ago, or at least had shared a deep connection. For the first time, Cody feels deeply aware of the difference in life experience between him and Obi-Wan. Physically, they might seem close in age, but Obi-Wan has decades over him. It’s not that Cody feels jealous of the Duchess, not exactly. He’s always been distantly aware of the fact that he is not Obi-Wan’s first lover. He’s feeling...bittersweet, he supposes, thinking about the time he hasn’t been able to spend by his Jedi’s side.

While he’s been mulling over these thoughts, Obi-Wan has been locked in his own thoughts. Staring pensively out the window, he passes a hand over his face, caressing his beard like he always does when he’s trying to decide what to do in a complicated situation.

The picture he paints, alone, bathed in blue light, feels far too heart-wrenching for Cody to bear.

Silently, he walks up to his Jedi, and it’s a testament to how distracted and caught up in his own mind he is, that Obi-Wan only reacts when Cody wraps his arms around him from behind. Cody’s still wearing his armor, making his embrace slightly uncomfortable for the both of them. Nonetheless, Obi-Wan lets himself rest against the Commander’s body, too tired and weary to do much else, hands rising to rest gently over Cody’s on his stomach.

“I thought you would be asleep, Cody. You’ve had a busy day.”

Cody takes advantage of their position to rest his chin on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. He has to crane his neck more than usual due to the fact that he’s in full armor, while Obi-Wan has shed his boots and his standing in just his socks. “Could say the same about you.”

Obi-Wan hums in acknowledgment.

They spend a long time gazing out the window, letting the peaceful atmosphere created between them to just fill them to the brim. Cody adores moments like this. His previous ‘relationships’ (though he knows they cannot be called that) had been just sex to release pent up energy or simply to find some pleasure between grueling battles. He hadn’t known the simple intimacy of standing still with his partner, arms wrapped around each other, basking in shared warmth.

“What brought you here, Cody?”

The Commander thinks back to his initial motivation for searching Obi-Wan and ponders if this is the right moment to bring up his concerns. Obi-Wan has just had an emotional conversation with the Duchess, but now he seems calm and relaxed so Cody decides to risk it.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he starts easy. “And I wanted to tell you that I’ve been made aware of things that...maybe you would have preferred to tell me yourself.”

“Oh?”

Cody grimaces. “The troopers thought their right to tell me about...you and...the Duchess?”

He feels Obi-Wan tense in his arms, and waits for the outbursts he would be right to have. “Well, I suppose I should have expected that. If you want me to explain the situation with Satine-”

“No!” Cody interrupts him. “That’s not what I wanted!” He blows a breath to calm down and takes one arm away from Obi-Wan’s waist to cup his cheek and make him turn toward him. He presses their forehead together. “ _Ni ceta_. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I know I’m not your first.” He stares deeply into Obi-Wan’s eyes. “I do very much intend to be your last, though.” He smiles slightly.

Obi-Wan closes his eyes at his words, pressing harder against his forehead. Cody lets him take as much assurance as he needs from himself, content to just hold him, if that is what his Jedi needs. Every now and then, he presses light kisses against Obi-Wan’s forehead, happy to see a light blush take hold of him.

At a certain point, to lighten the mood, Cody decides to change the subject to something much easier to discuss. “The stew they served during the meal on Mandalore, was that the same you made in your quarters at the Jedi Temple?”

Obi-Wan draws back, clearly confused by the change of subject. He regains his footing quickly, though. “Ah, yes. It’s called _ti_ _i_ _ngilar_. It’s a typical Mandalorian dish and I’m afraid mine wasn’t nearly as good as the original. It’s quite difficult to find all the right spices on Coruscant.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I thought it would be nice to let you eat that. I know Kamino and the GAR don’t exactly stock up on Mandalorian cuisine, and it’s a piece of your culture you’ve been deprived of so…”

It’s Cody’s turn to feel overwhelmed. “Ah, _ka’ra,_ ” he gasps, urging Obi-Wan to turn around in his arms so he can rain kisses all over his Jedi’s face. He has no words to describe how precious Obi-Wan makes him feel, how treasured, how cared for. There are words he wants to shout stuck in his throat, words he never dreamed he would get to say.

Obi-Wan cups his cheeks, bringing their lips together in a sweet kiss Cody is more than happy to drown in. For long moments, they do nothing but brush their lips together, seeking nothing more than closeness and warmth. Cody’s arms are wound so tightly around Obi-Wan’s waist that he’s surprised he has said nothing about it. Although, Obi-Wan’s arms are just as tight around his neck, so there’s that.

The feel of his Jedi warm in his arms, pushes Cody into searching for more. Gently, he sucks on Obi-Wan’s lower lip, coaxing his Jedi to open his mouth so he can deepen their kiss. Instead of doing that, however, Obi-Wan draws back.

“Wait, wait,” he pants against Cody’s lips, pressing a quick, hard kiss against them to soothe the Commander.

“What is it?” Cody keeps his arms around Obi-Wan, confused by the sudden shift in mood.

Obi-Wan’s arms unwind from around Cody’s neck, drawing back until his hands can rest nervously on his shoulders, fingers tapping restlessly against the shoulder pads.

Cody feels nervous when he spots intense nervousness in Obi-Wan’s eyes, mixed with...is that fear he sees shine bright in those dear blue eyes?

When Obi-Wan gathers the courage to speak, his words are the last thing Cody had expected to hear.

“Cody, we need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manda'yaim - The Planet Mandalore in Manod'a  
> Beskar - Mandalorian steel. Very rare, very precious  
> Beskar'gam - Armor  
> Mandokar - Literally "right stuff". It's the epitome of Mandalorian virtue, a mix of aggression, tenacity loyalty and lust for life  
> Mando’ade cabuo Mando’ade - "Mandalorians protect Mandalorians". I made this one up  
> Mand'alor - Sole ruler  
> Cin Vhetin - Literally "white field", it refers to the erasure of a person's past when they become Mandalorian and to the fact that they will be judged only by what they do from that moment on  
> Ni ceta - I'm sorry. Literally it means "I kneel"  
> Tiingilar - A spicy Mandalorian stew  
> Ka'ra - Stars


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conversation and its consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read the chapter, please read this: in this chapter there is a discussion of asexuality and also aphobia. I have not added the tag Aphobia to this fic for a reason: the aphobic words you will read are not due to the intent to invalidate anyone's sexuality, nor are they meant to make the other person feel bad about themselves. They are born by complete ignorance of asexuality's existence and by the misunderstanding of what it is. That being said, I am warning you because I do not want to trigger anybody. It's not too bad, at least I don't think it is. Some of the things I wrote are things that were said to me personally by a person very close to me. I understand very well that words hurt. If you want me to add the tag Aphobia, please just tell me and I will add it immediately.
> 
> Enjoy this chapter. I only ask that you trust me when I tell you that this had to happen and that I will lead you to a happy ending.

Even though there had been urgency in Obi-Wan’s request, the two can’t find the time to talk at least until they arrive on Coruscant on their mission to escort the Duchess of Mandalore to her Senate hearing. There’s a subtle tension between Cody and Obi-Wan throughout the journey, but the mission has to come first, they both know it and accept it. Cody wishes he knew what prompted Obi-Wan to ask that they talk, and about what. Things had been progressing smoothly, until the conversation he’d witnessed between Obi-Wan and the Duchess.

Cody doesn’t think of himself as a petty or jealous man. Having millions of brothers constantly trying to one-up and prank each other has taught him to let things go, focus on what he can control and how he reacts to what happens around him. Still, he can’t help but feel animosity rise in him every time he sees the Duchess of Mandalore. Whatever she had been trying to tell Obi-Wan had clearly upset him, and now his Jedi was retreating inside himself, locking Cody out. Something about Obi-Wan needing to tell Cody something about himself, and if there is something that needs to be said, Cody wants Obi-Wan to tell him when he feels comfortable instead of being forced.

Everything is a mess, and Cody wants nothing more than to get to Coruscant so he and Obi-Wan can be alone and talk.

When they finally get to Coruscant, Obi-Wan and General Skywalker take it upon themselves to escort the Duchess to her quarters, setting up a security detail for her. In the meantime, Cody focuses on the _Negotiator_ , making sure all the orders are being dispatched correctly to ready the ship for take-off as soon as the new mission comes through. He assigns leave to the brothers not needed on-board and contacts Rex to meet up at 79’s in the evening, since the 501st  is planetside with the 212th .

It’s early in the afternoon when he receives a holo-comm from Obi-Wan. He’s in the middle of a bunk inspection and tells Hawke, the officer in charge of the block and one of Wooley’s batchmates (if Cody remembers correctly), to excuse him while he takes the call.

He moves to a vacated office nearby, making sure the door is closed behind him before taking out his portable holo-projector and placing it on top of a table. Immediately, the blue light of a hologram fills the small room, Obi-Wan appearing in front of Cody in all his 20 inches. He’s in full Jedi garb, brown robe included, hands safely tucked away in the ample sleeves.

“General Kenobi, sir.” Cody addresses him formally.

Obi-Wan tilts his head and answers, “Commander, what’s the situation?”

It’s easy to slip into the role of the Commander Cody’s born to be, “I have already sent all the appropriate orders to refuel and restock the supplies of the _Negotiator_. I expect to be ready to leave in three days max, General. At the moment, we are inspecting the troopers’ bunks. Just regular stuff, sir; contraband, moonshine and other things outside of the regs.”

“Excellent,” comes Obi-Wan’s voice. “Are we sure we have the correct rations this time?” There’s a bit of levity in his voice and Cody is so glad to hear it.

“I double-checked, sir.”

He receives a little smile in response. “Then, perhaps, once you are done with the inspections you could come to my quarters in the Jedi Temple?”

Cody feels a little apprehension bubble-up inside him, but there’s also the relief of finally finding out what is going on with Obi-Wan, and what will need to be done to fix things. “Of course, sir. I will comm you when I will be ready to depart for the Jedi Temple.”

“Perfect. I will see you later, then.”

The hologram disappears, plunging the office in the sterile white light omnipresent in the GAR’s starships.

Cody stares at his holo-projector for a long moment. For a brief moment, he’d felt like he and Obi-Wan had gone back to the easy relationship they had developed over the course of the weeks of their courting. The back and forth between them, the way they just know how to tease one another without ever crossing the line, everything is always so easy with them. It frustrates Cody to no end that something has come between them, tilting them out of axis in such an unfair way.

Determined to get his answers in the afternoon, Cody pockets his holo-projector and goes back to Hawke to supervise the bunks inspection.

It always amazes Cody the amount of contraband his brothers manage to hide, even though the 212 th  is one of the busiest Battalions in the GAR, always on some mission or other. Usually, Cody and the other officers in charge of the _Negotiator_ manage to intercept any contraband during the mandatory search every time a brother wants to return to the ship (a practice instituted after a particularly disastrous mission on Intania resulted in an ungodly amount of fire-lizards being smuggled on-board).

Still, the troopers are resourceful and, just like every time they have a moment of quiet, Cody finds himself shaking his head at what comes up at every inspection. Sometimes he truly hates the _Kaminiise_ and how smart they created them. None of them are paid enough for this.

Some things he expects. There are scary amounts of porn (both in holo and flimsi format) catering to any and all preferences among the troopers. There’s the usual stack of data-chips containing nose-arts (the kind that’s too risky to be painted on GAR crafts), though Cody notices a dramatic decrease in the art depicting General Kenobi. It could be that his brothers are trying to be more sensitive, but he wouldn’t put his hand on a lightsaber for that. There are also illegal foods and liquors, though he knows where he has to look for the life-changing moonshine he knows his brothers produce on-board.

There are cans and cans of paint that, technically, the clones shouldn’t be allowed to possess, together with hair-dyes, non-regulation weapons (some crafted by the brothers themselves), reading materials not approved by the GAR, and all sorts of knick-knacks that really should have no place on a warship.

Cody turns a blind eye at some of the things he finds, hand-made items he recognizes as gifts from grateful civilians or caring brothers. The brothers don’t have much that they can call their own, aside from their armor and weapons, and Cody won’t be the one to take away what little they manage to scrounge up for themselves, little proofs that they are making a difference in the galaxy.

All in all, the inspection takes less time than usual.

“I have to say, I am surprised,” Cody tells Hawke as he finishes inputting the last confiscated item in his data-pad.

“Perhaps the men are learning, sir.” Hawke takes Cody’s data-pad and replaces it with a new one, needing the Commander’s signature on a few forms.

Cody huffs a laugh. “That or they are getting better at hiding their contraband.”

Hawke smiles at his Commander. “It’s certainly a possibility, sir.”

With a final flourish, Cody hands the data-pad back to Hawke. “At least there were no animals this time. I consider it a win. If there is nothing else that needs my attention, I will be at the Jedi Temple for the rest of the afternoon.”

“No, sir. You’re free to go. We’ll take care of the ship.” Hawke hesitates a moment, shifting his weight and moving one step closer to Cody. “If it’s not too much to ask, Commander, the brothers downstairs in storage would like to know General Kenobi’s favorite brand of tea.” At Cody’s raised eyebrow, the officer is quick to explain. “They’re trying to send a requisition for some more variety in the beverages on-board, sir. They think that if it looks like it’s coming from the General, it will be easier for it to be approved.”

A sound plan. Normally, Cody would discourage this kind of treachery but he can make an exception for once. After all, the men are just requesting something different to drink.

“I will be sure to ask,” Cody nods, not even attempting to deny that he is in fact going to see Obi-Wan. He’s pretty sure Obi-Wan’s favorite tea is Alderaanian green tea, but maybe he now prefers that pretty tea from Dorin. Cody will definitely add to the form sent by his brothers.

A nervous shuffling of feet to the side makes the two brothers turn around.

“Uh...what am I supposed to do with this, sirs?”

The one who speaks is a younger brother, not a shiny but definitely with them for less than a year judging by the still reverent gaze he throws at Cody. Cody has to give it to him, he’s standing remarkably still and calm for a _vod_ with a giant lizard coiled around his body. Big, round eyes peer at Cody from above a shoulder, a thin tongue flickers defiantly in the air to taste the mood and predict what will happen next. There are short, fuzzy-looking feathers on top of the beast’s head and at the end of its tail, betraying its species.

“How did a varactyl get on-board?”

Hawke shifts next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Eh...I will take care of this, sir. You don’t need to stay here.”

Cody takes advantage of the offer and leaves his brother to deal with the latest addition to the crew of the _Negotiator_. He’s mildly impressed by the fact that some trooper managed to squeeze a lizard like that on-board, and he definitely wants to find said trooper and hear what his plans were for when the varactyl would reach adulthood. If there’s a way to hide a fifty-feet-long lizard on the ship, Cody wants to know it now and avoid any future unpleasantness.

“Now, kid, let’s not make any sudden moves, alright?” Hawke’s voice trails after Cody as the Commander leaves the sleeping quarters.

He makes a detour to his own quarters to change for his meeting with Obi-Wan. He carefully stores his armor away and then goes to stand in front of the little locker containing all the clothes he possesses. It’s not like he has that much choice, to be honest, yet he still doesn’t know what’s best to wear. He can’t exactly leave in only his blacks (much too informal), but the dress uniform seems too much. He could use his civilian grays, similar to his dress grays but without all the medals and the accessories, only markings on the collar and shoulders displaying his rank in the army. The problem with those clothes is that they are, simply put, the most uncomfortable things he’s ever had to punt on. Not even a mud-caked armor could beat them.

The solution would be to mix and match the clothes he has.

In the end, Cody marches out of his rooms with shoes and pants from his civilian grays, a long-sleeved shirt from his blacks and his civilian gray jacket. Not exactly appropriate, but technically speaking he is on leave right now so he can decide what he wants to wear. As long as he doesn’t cast a bad light on the GAR, no one will have anything to say about the way he dresses.

The ride to the Jedi Temple is blessedly normal. Public transport on Coruscant isn’t bad on these levels, but it is always packed full of people. Cody gets the usual stares from civilians, shocked to see a clone walking among them and out of his armor. They give him a wide berth and Cody doesn’t really understand what they’re scared of, but he does appreciate having space for himself surrounded by strangers who aren’t his brothers.

Little kids point fingers at him, excitedly shaking the arm of the parent accompanying them. Cody thinks it’s all fault of the scar, he’s noticed it tends to draw the attention of younger people. He tries to smile at the kids but all he gets in response is them hiding their faces against their parents. Cody sighs internally, nat-born kids just confuse him. Give him a _vod’ika_ and he knows exactly how to treat them at any age, but civilian shinies? Those never react the way Cody expects them to.

When he leaves the transport not far from the Temple, one of the kids waves shyly at him. Cody feels curiously touched by the simple gesture.

Much like the last time Cody visited the Temple, the armored Jedi standing guard at the public entrance show no sign they even notice him passing between them. Their silent figures make a cold shiver run down his spine. That unpleasant sensation is soon forgotten, however, when the Jedi Temple spreads out around him. Perhaps it’s a reflection of the Jedi’s continuous search for peace and calm in every aspect of their lives, but the Temple is a beacon of tranquility for Cody. At the very least, that is how it has always felt every time he set foot in it. He’s sure that in the training salles and in the communal areas there must be less peace and much more chaos, but here, even though there are plenty of Jedi milling about, everything is silent but not uncomfortably so.

With sure steps, Cody approaches one of the turbo-lifts present in the hall and steps inside it with four Jedi.

“Which floor?”

Cody glances at the Jedi speaking to him, a Twi’lek with a skin-color similar to that of General Secura, and tells him the number for Obi-Wan’s floor.

“Ah, you must be visiting one of the Knights called back home from the front,” the Twi’lek says smiling kindly at Cody and pushing the button for him. Two of the other three Jedi in the turbolift press their own button and focus on the Commander and their brother.

“Yes, sir.” Cody really wishes he knew whether the Jedi he’s talking to is a Knight or a Master so that he could address him correctly. Then, because he sees no reason to hide why he’s in the Temple, he adds, “I’m here to meet with General Kenobi.”

The _Jetiise_ exchange quick looks and smiles and Cody wonders if perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything. Obi-Wan had been clear in explaining that Jedi could have relationships if they so wanted, but maybe him being a clone changes things for some Jedi.

The Twi’lek turns to look at him again and his wide smile puts Cody at ease. “You must be Commander Cody, then.”

“I am.”

The Twi’lek once again exchanges excited looks with his companions before turning back to Cody and schooling his features. To Cody’s bafflement, the Jedi bows to him in all seriousness, his companions doing the same behind him. When they straighten back up, the Commander sees respect, perhaps even a hint of admiration, in the eyes of the four Jedi.

“If the Force wills it, this war will be over soon. However, should it continue and demand of me to serve as a General in the GAR, I hope I will get to serve alongside a man that will be as loyal and devoted to me as you are to Master Kenobi,” the Twi’lek says, bowing again at the end.

“And as Master Kenobi is to you, Commander!” trills a young Togruta.

The Twi-lek’s eyes widen and he hastily adds, “Of course!”

Cody doesn’t know what to do. He feels a little out of his depths here, surrounded by _Jetiise_ who look at him with eyes full of stars. He is used to his brothers being aware of and even involved in his relationship with Obi-Wan, but that is standard Mandalorian behavior. Are Jedi the same way? And on that note, since when have Obi-Wan and him become famous and, dare he say it, a source of inspiration for young Jedi fresh out of the Temple? Cody knows that with Obi-Wan being in charge of a System Army and he himself being the highest ranking clone in the GAR, the two of them tend to attract attention, but these young Jedi seem to imply that what they admire is not their professional career as much as their personal relationship.

In the end, the Commander is spared from having to say anything by the turbolift arriving at his floor. Cody hightails it from the lift and nods respectfully at the four Jedi waving enthusiastically at him as the doors slide closed and the turbolift continues its journey.

“ _Kriffin’ Jetiise_ ,” he murmurs under his breath, and with a shake of his head walks away.

Last time he’d been here, Cody hadn’t really been paying attention, but thankfully there are little plaques beside each door announcing whose quarters lie beyond. Like this, finding Obi-Wan’s door is quite easy. He presses the little square button on the wall to let his Jedi know he has arrived and, not even a full five seconds later, the door slides open and Obi-Wan appears, greeting him with a smile.

“Hello, Cody.”

The Commander doesn’t fight the instinctual smile he feels quirking his lips, “Hello.”

Obi-Wan steps aside to let him in, shutting the rest of the world out behind them. Cody automatically bends to take off his shoes and in so doing, he notices that right beside the door, there is a familiar pair of slippers waiting for him. He straightens, wiggling his toes inside the fluffy slippers, and trails after Obi-Wan as the Jedi walks into his kitchenette. He takes a seat at the table seeing as Obi-Wan is busy pouring water in an old-looking kettle.

“Would you like a cup?”

Cody cranes his neck to see which kind of tea his Jedi is making, “Depends…”

Obi-Wan turns with a sly smile, “Just regular Coruscanti tea, nothing too fancy.”

“Then yes, thank you.”

Obi-Wan huffs a laugh, “I really scarred you with that tea from Dorin.”

“Let’s just say that I have been fooled once and now I need some time to find my trust in tea again.”

Obi-Wan chuckles under his breath, the low, joyful sound a balm for Cody’s nerves. If his Jedi behaves like this around him, then maybe the conversation they will soon have is not something to fear. It must certainly be important as Cody doesn’t think Obi-Wan would have requested to speak in private with him if it were otherwise, but Cody might have made a mountain out of a molehill.

Soon Obi-Wan has two fuming cups placed on the table, and Cody blows carefully on his before taking a small sip. The tea is scalding and it leaves him pleasantly warm as it goes down his throat. With his eyes closed, Cody sighs deeply feeling his whole body relax. When he opens his eyes again, he catches Obi-Wan looking at him over the rim of his own cup. Cody feels humbled by the amount of warmth and affection he can see in those blue-eyes, but once again he notices a trace of anxiousness and fear in them, and he doesn’t like it one bit. Obi-Wan has no reason to be scared of him. Whatever they need to talk about, it doesn’t matter, Cody is not going to walk away. He is sure of it.

The Commander needs to find a way to get them on track for this conversation, but he can’t just force the words out of Obi-Wan. He’s experienced enough in reading Obi-Wan’s body-language to know that right now, his Jedi is beyond tense and not nearly ready to say what he feels he needs to say. Cody racks his brain in search of a topic to get them started and stumbles on a possible solution.

“We finished the inspections earlier today,” he starts, catching his Jedi’s attention. “You will never guess what we found.”

It’s the right thing to say because from there the conversation is easy. It’s something they’ve being doing for such a long time, since the beginning of the war really, this telling each other everything that happens on the _Negotiator_ so that they can always be on top of things. It’s how they started to talk, really talk, almost a year ago now, because everything is always so easy with Obi-Wan. Cody used to wonder how he started talking about something and ended up on something completely different, and somewhere along the way he figured out that it was all due to the fact that Obi-Wan listened, yes, but he also asked genuine questions because he cared about what Cody had to say.

It’s no different now.

Cody launches into a retelling of everything they found during the inspections, and Obi-Wan is full of questions. He’s also incredibly good at guessing who smuggled what on-board. It takes him only two tries to guess that Wooley is the one constantly trying to get his hands on knitting supplies, while Gearshift fancies himself a painter even though they all know he’s not that good with a brush and should stick to chalk. He doesn’t even need a second to say Waxer’s name when Cody reports an increase in the appearance of holo-chips containing information on how to raise Porgs in small places far from their natural habitat.

As he keeps on speaking, Cody stands up and joins Obi-Wan as the Jedi cleans the cups and the pots they have used for their tea. The Commander leans against the counter and obligingly dries the cups that Obi-Wan quickly cleans. It’s such a domestic thing to do, so far from what he’s used to, but Cody finds himself enamored with the simplicity of the gestures he and his Jedi are speeding through.

“Last but not least, we found a stowaway,” Cody concludes, leaving the best for last.

Obi-Wan stores away his cups before turning to look at Cody, “A stowaway?”

Cody nods, “A varactyl.”

“Oh.”

The Commander feels dread pool in his stomach, because that ‘oh’ wasn’t nearly as surprised as it should have been. “Why do I have the feeling that you already knew about that?”

Obi-Wan turns and looks at him with wide eyes. “Are you suggesting that I had something to do with that?”

Cody’s eyes narrow and he moves closer to Obi-Wan, arms going to encircle his Jedi’s waist to pull him closer. Obi-Wan’s arms, moving purely by reflex, rise to rest across his shoulders. “Maybe you have nothing to do with the varactyl.”

“Thank you.”

“But,” Cody squeezes Obi-Wan’s hips teasingly. “I think you did know that thing was on-board and you decided to conveniently forget to report it.”

“I will not stand here and let you slander me, Commander,” Obi-Wan presses a lingering kiss to his lips. Cody feels his lips curl into a smile just before Obi-Wan pulls back. “I think that if someone, sometime, managed to sneak a varactyl on-board, well that someone merits a commendation for his creativity.”

Cody smothers his laughter by carding his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair and tilting his head down for another long kiss. He’s well aware of Obi-Wan’s love for big, ride-able creatures, especially if such creatures resemble, even vaguely, lizards. He’s not sure where that specific love comes from, but he’s witnessed one too many longing gazes cast toward said creatures to underestimate the length Obi-Wan’s willing to go to, to get his hands on a big lizard. Right now he’s not admitting to anything, but Cody’s pretty sure he’s somehow involved in this little mishaps.

He pulls back from the kiss, hands falling from Obi-Wan’s hair to run up and down his flanks in a relaxing caress. His Jedi leans heavily against him, clearly feeling at ease in his arms. Cody wagers this is the right time to move the conversation toward the real aim.

“Is the varactyl why you wanted to talk? The guilt is weighing you down and you feel the need to come clean?”

He meant for his words to be a light tease, but the way Obi-Wan goes rigid against him tells him he missed completely. He leans forward, capturing Obi-Wan’s eyes with his own. “What is it?”

Obi-Wan’s hands run up his chest, fingers going to fidget with the buttons keeping Cody’s jacket closed. He bites his lower lip and Cody starts to feel extremely nervous all of a sudden. He’s never seen Obi-Wan like this. He doesn’t doubt that his Jedi feels nervous and scared just like anyone else, but he never lets it show. Part of Cody is honored that he feels comfortable enough in his presence to let him see what he’s feeling so clearly. Another part of him wonders how serious what Obi-Wan has to say is to make him feel like this.

“I think,” Obi-Wan licks his lips and swallows heavily. “I think it would be better to move this conversation over to the couch.”

Cody nods and lets himself be lead over to the couch. It should be the last thing on his mind, but Cody can’t help but notice that the couch is remarkably comfortable and any other time, he would have liked to sit here with Obi-Wan, perhaps recreate the scene on Mandalore. There’s a growing feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him that he is not going to enjoy what’s about to happen.

He sits turned toward Obi-Wan and observes how his Jedi runs his hands over his tunics, straightening them, making sure the collar is as tightly closed as possible. Cody lets him fidget away, gathering his thoughts, while he himself tries to remember if he’s done anything to cause the situation they’re in. He comes up empty and, since Obi-Wan seems incapable of calming himself down, he slides closer to his Jedi and takes his hand in one of his own, twining their fingers together.

“What’s wrong Obi-Wan? Have I done something to cause this?” At this point, directness seems the only way forward.

“No, you haven’t done anything wrong, Cody,” Obi-Wan is quick to answer. He squeezes Cody’s hand and to the Commander it looks like he’s trying to take some of Cody’s strength and make it his own. “I just think that we should be on the same page...regarding what we’re doing.”

What they’re doing? “You mean the Courting?”

Obi-Wan nods, eyes looking deeply into Cody’s. “I understand that Mandalorian Courting typically ends with the _riduurok_ , correct?”

Cody’s eyes widen. Does Obi-Wan want to marry him? Is that it? But they’re only in the beginnings of the Courting, and yes things are going splendidly well but Cody feels it would be rushed to say the _riduurok_ now. Not to mention they’re at war, things are so uncertain and Cody isn’t technically even a person in the eye of the Republic, which worked to his advantage because he can court a Jedi General with no repercussions, but can he even legally marry?

Obi-Wan notices Cody’s thoughts spiraling out of control and squeezes his hands to catch his attention. “I’m not asking you to marry me, Cody. And I don’t want you to ask me to marry you. You can relax.”

Cody exhales heavily through his nose, willing his heart to slow down. He focuses on the slow movement of Obi-Wan’s chest and on replicating that same movement. He’s aware of his Jedi’s steady gaze fixed on him as he wrestles back control over his own body after the little freak-out he just experienced.

Once he deems him calm enough, Obi-Wan tries again. “I suppose, what I want to know is what you want from me out of this courting? Based on what we’ve done together, I think I have a clear picture in mind but I really need to hear you say it, Cody. With your own words.”

The Commander lowers his eyes to their entwined hand, resting on the couch between the two. Obi-Wan’s request is entirely reasonable, one that greatly interests Cody himself. He’d left off saying out loud how he’d hoped the Courting would conclude, but maybe it would have been better to be clear from the moment Obi-Wan had revealed his knowledge of Mando traditions. Mandalorian Courting, as Obi-Wan had stated, always reached its end with the _riduurok_ that formally created a new _aliit_ starting from the two _riduure_. This implied understanding between courting Mandalorians is what made Cody think that saying the words out loud, as pleasing as that would have been, was ultimately useless.

Except Obi-Wan is not a _Mando’ad_. Sometimes, Cody struggles to remember that.

“I admit I haven’t thought about marriage,” he says, eyes going back to Obi-Wan’s. “To be honest with you, I don’t know if I can legally marry you. It wouldn’t impede us from saying the words, the Mando way, but I don’t think it would be legally binding.” Obi-Wan’s eyes flash with righteous anger at his words, and Cody brushes his thumb over the back of his hand to calm him down. “I wasn’t lying when I said that I want to be your last lover. I am aware that I lack...experience in relationships, but I know that what I feel for you isn’t temporary. There are many things I don’t know, many things I have yet to learn. I have been made to fight in this war, but I was thinking that after the war is over...maybe I could learn everything I need to know. With you.”

He thinks about Waxer learning to speak twileki so he can go back to Ryloth and talk with little Numa again. He thinks about Boil who wants nothing more than to spend his life by his brother’s side, even though he would never say it out loud. He thinks about the many brothers he’s heard make plans for a future after the war. Cody used to think there was no ‘after the war’, he used to think being a soldier was all he could ever aspire to be, but then he started courting Obi-Wan and with it came new thoughts and hopes. He started thinking that even if being a soldier was what he wanted, it didn’t mean it had to be all he ever would be. Without a war to fight, even a soldier could fill his days with lighthearted things, sweet smiles and tender kisses.

“Is that something you would be interested in?” Cody asks tentatively. This is the moment of truth.

Obi-Wan holds on tight to the hand clasped in his and answers in a whisper. “I would very much like to be with you, Cody. After the war and for however long you would want me.”

Cody feels his lips stretch in a smile so wide he’s afraid his face is going to split in half. Overwhelmed with emotions, he moves forward with the intention of kissing Obi-Wan but his Jedi leans slightly backwards, stalling Cody and letting him know that he’s not finished. Cody can barely keep still as he waits for Obi-Wan to speak. He hopes whatever his Jedi has to say is quick because he cannot wait much longer to kiss him and let him know just how happy he’s just made him.

“You say you want a long-term, committed relationship,” Obi-Wan’s hand moves restlessly in Cody’s and the Commander notices that his other hand is clenched in a death grip on the edge of the couch. “Which is why I need to tell you something so that we can be on the same page and then you will be able to make a choice for yourself.”

A choice?

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I am assuming that, at a certain point in this relationship, you would be interested in having sex with me,” Obi-Wan speaks slowly, as if afraid of Cody’s reaction but Cody feels something unclench inside of him, all the tension since Obi-Wan’s asked to speak just melts away. If the big problem is sex, Cody has already thought about it at length and he already knows what to do to make Obi-Wan feel comfortable.

“Obi-Wan, stop,” he shushes his Jedi gently. Obi-Wan’s eyes snap to his, confused at being interrupted. Cody rests his free hand on top of their joint ones and smiles softly, happy that he had been able to anticipate Obi-Wan’s worry and find a solution to make his Jedi feel comfortable. That’s what a good companion is supposed to do. “You’re right, I would like to have sex with you, but I don’t want you to feel obligated. I can wait, for as long as you need and in the meantime, I am not going to try anything. When you feel ready, you can come to me. I don’t mind waiting, honest.”

Obi-Wan’s smile at his words is a wistful thing. “That’s very sweet of you, Cody. I expected nothing else. But that’s not what I wanted to say.” He takes a deep breath and looks at Cody in a way that makes the Commander’s heart stutter in his chest, because he recognizes that look. It’s the one Cody directs at his brothers at the start of a mission, knowing full well it might be the last time they see one another. Obi-Wan punches out a breath and straightens his back. “The thing is sex...sex isn’t something that I do.”

Cody frowns. “You don’t do sex?”

“I can’t.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes search his, looking for a response.

Cody frankly has no idea how he’s supposed to react. Obi-Wan has said ‘can’t’ which seems to imply some sort of physical disability. Cody’s eyes run over Obi-Wan’s figure, as if doing so could somehow reveal the impediment his Jedi experiences when it comes to sex. Cody’s grown up with millions of brothers identical to him, which means he knows basically everything about his brothers, even things he doesn’t really want to know. That’s how on Kamino he learned that there were brothers who couldn’t...rise to the occasion (something the _Kam_ _i_ _niise_ didn’t seem to consider a defect), and it’s how during the war he learned that sometimes wounded brothers experienced lasting consequences, even though they healed in the body. But leaving Kamino also meant learning that the brothers who previously experienced difficulties with sex, now could get the medications they needed.

Maybe Obi-Wan has the same problem. Cody knows for a fact that his Jedi hadn’t been wounded in the field, not like that at least, but Obi-Wan is also much older so perhaps something happened before they even met. Either way, Cody doesn’t think it’s something to be ashamed of. It’s a bit bothersome that Obi-Wan might need to take something before having sex, but Cody can work around that.

Obi-Wan is still waiting for him to say something so Cody speaks carefully, not wanting to offend. “Do you need to take medications?”

Obi-Wan doesn’t hesitate to shake his head, almost as if he had been expecting the question. “No, I don’t need to take anything. Everything works just fine,” he says, waving a hand to himself. “Perhaps it would be more correct to say that I don’t like sex.”

“You don’t like it.”

This...this Cody doesn’t know how to take. A sudden thought enters his mind and he blurts out, “You told me you have been in a relationship before.”

“Yes, but my previous relationships did not involve sex.”

“So you’ve never done it?”

Obi-Wan’s lips form a thin line as he draw in a deep breath at Cody’s question. “That’s a very personal question to ask, but if you really must know then no I have never had sex.”

A sudden burst of relief makes its way into Cody, a clear solution to their problem right in front of their eyes. “Well then how do you know you don’t like it?”

Obi-Wan tugs his hand free and looks away from Cody, blue-eyes fixing on the shelves lining the wall across the sofa. “It’s not always necessary to try something to know whether you will like it or not.”

Cody can agree to that, he certainly doesn’t need to take a blaster shot to the gut to know he won’t like it. “I know but sex is...at first I thought it was terrifying but it’s actually a lot of fun. It’s one of those things you just have to try and then you realize that it’s amazing. Especially when you’re doing it with the right person.”

He would be such a good partner for Obi-Wan, he is absolutely certain. In this instance, he would be the one with more experience and he would make it so good for his Jedi. It wouldn’t be like with his other partners, strangers met just for one night, both of them just working toward their own pleasure. Cody would make sure to treat Obi-Wan right, to learn everything that gave him pleasure, to catalog every twitching muscle and every hitched breath and do everything in his power to make Obi-Wan feel good until they both disappeared into one another in a blazing moment of unparalleled intimacy.

His Jedi blows out a joyless laugh, standing up and turning his back on Cody. One of his hands comes up to cup over his mouth as he gathers his thoughts. Cody stands up behind him, feeling suddenly on edge.

“Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan turns back toward him and Cody’s heart clenches painfully when he gazes into brittle blue-eyes.

“You are attracted to men, yes?”

Cody frowns, the sudden shift in their conversation leaving him unbalanced. “Yes, what has that to do with what we’re talking about?”

“So you’ve never desired to have sex with women.”

The Commander immediately understands where Obi-Wan wants to lead him with his line of questioning. “It’s not the same thing.”

“How so?” Obi-Wan’s voice is as unforgiving as his eyes. “When you look at women you don’t want to have sex with them. That’s what I feel when I look at people.”

There’s a sudden pain in Cody’s chest, and he brings a hand up to palm at his sternum in a useless attempt to alleviate it. He feels like he’s losing control of the situation, like every word leaving his or Obi-Wan’s mouth is pushing both of them closer toward a cliff’s edge and Cody has no idea how to stop both of them from taking one more step toward the inevitable fall. All he knows is that every word hurts more than the precedent one. All he knows is that he can’t understand anything that’s happening.

“You mean it’s what you feel when you look at me,” Cody murmurs, the pain in his chest spiking with the knowledge that he’s hit the target with his words.

Obi-Wan sounds exhausted when he answers. “It’s not just you, Cody. It’s everyone. I don’t desire anyone like that, not just you.”

There’s awareness, somewhere in his mind, that what he’s about to say will hurt Obi-Wan in a way only Cody ever could. But he can’t stop the words from coming. He can only say them and watch as the shipwreck that is this conversation unfolds.

“Maybe you need to speak to a medic about it.”

Cody regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.

Obi-Wan takes a step back as if Cody had physically struck him. The pain blooming in his eyes is something terrible to behold. Cody’s never seen such anguish in his gaze, not when he gets wounded during a battle, not when he worries for General Skywalker and Commander Tano’s safety, not even when another Jedi dies during the war. It’s humbling knowing that Cody has become the one capable of truly hurting his Jedi and it tears apart something inside him that leaves him gasping for breath. He takes a step forward, hands rising and mouth opening to beg for forgiveness because even though he doesn’t understand what Obi-Wan’s been telling him, hurting him is the last thing he wants to do.

“I think you need to leave,” Obi-Wan’s voice is steady, unforgiving.

A pained whimper reaches Cody’s ears and he realizes that he’s the one who made that sound. The pain in his chest doubles, strangling the words he’s fighting to say in his throat, as he watches Obi-Wan round the sofa and walk briskly toward his sleeping quarters. Cody tries to follow after him and stops dead in his tracks when his Jedi turns abruptly toward him.

“I’m not broken.” His eyes are as hard as durasteel even though his voice comes out strangled and he half-chokes on the words he’s saying. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Nothing.”

For a wild moment, Cody thinks that the shimmer in Obi-Wan’s eyes is about to spill over and roll down his cheeks. The mere thought of tears caused by him makes Cody’s heart splinter into thousands of shards ripping his chest apart.

Obi-Wan turns his back to him one more time and disappears into his room, the door sliding closed behind him and locking with a resounding _click_ , signaling the lock has been engaged.

Cody can only stare numbly at the white door in front of him, the red light on the wall next to it casting a silent judgment on him. He gulps in air, trying to calm his ragged breathing but every breath feels heavy in his lungs as if the room itself were silently telling him that he is not welcome here anymore. Every cell in his body rebels against the idea of leaving Obi-Wan alone, especially when he’s in pain. Except this time, Cody’s the cause of his suffering. He has no right to stay in this space.

On unsteady legs, Cody stumbles toward the door that will lead him out of Obi-Wan’s quarters, belatedly remembering that he needs to put his shoes back on. The hallway is deserted when Cody steps outside. It could have been packed full of Jedi for all Cody cares. He walks in a daze to the turbolift, stumbling inside and pressing the button that will take him back down to the public entrance and then out in the streets of Coruscant. He’s not sure, but he thinks there are Jedi inside the lift with him. He can’t focus on them, his mind keeps replaying Obi-Wan’s last words to him.

When he steps outside the Temple, the bright sun still high up in Coruscant’s sky blinds him. Cody walks down the steps of the public entrance not even knowing where he’s supposed to go now. Back to the _Negotiator_? No, he shudders at the mere thought of going back to a ship filled to brim with Obi-Wan’s presence. The barracks? At this hour they must be full of brothers and Cody still has the presence of mind to know that he can’t allow himself to be seen in such a state. 79’s? He chokes on a laugh, thinking that a stiff drink is probably the right thing at the moment.

He needs a moment to rest, though. His head feels light and the light of the sun is starting to really hurt his eyes. Cody feels for the wall with his hand, carefully sliding down to sit with his back against it, head hanging low between his knees.

Why can’t he catch a breath? He feels like suffocating and the pain in his chest doesn’t seem willing to let up.

“General, there’s no need for you and the Commander to walk through this entrance. You can go through the regular one, I don’t mind.”

“Don’t be stupid, Rex. We’re a team, aren’t we? We need to stick together.”

“Yeah, what Skyguy says.”

“You’re just curious.”

“Can you blame me? I never enter the Temple through this entrance. I’m not even sure where we’ll find ourselves!”

“That’s what I thought…”

“Uhh...Rex? You think your brother there needs help?”

Cody’s ears barely register the sound of steps coming closer. Rex crouches in front of him, a warm hand settling on Cody’s shoulder and squeezing gently to draw his attention. He doesn’t react, preferring to keep his head bowed and trying to get his breathing under control with poor results.

“Did something happen, _vod_? Do you need help?”

It’s the first time Cody’s heard Rex speaking so softly. He would be mad at being treated like a tubie, but he supposes his little brother is only doing what he can for a brother in need of help. He’s impressed, he didn’t know their voices could sound so kind and concerned. Cody knows his little brother. Rex might pretend to be all tough and above everything, but inside he’s soft like bread. He also doesn’t like to reveal that softness. Maybe Cody should raise his head, show Rex that he’s fine and there’s no need to worry. Yeah, he should do that.

Apparently it’s the wrong choice.

“Cody?”

Well, he must look really bad for Rex to look so distraught.

“Cody, what happened?” Rex is kneeling on the ground, both hands now resting on Cody’s shoulders as he ducks his head a little bit to look the Commander in the eye.

From the corner of his eye, Cody sees General Skywalker and Commander Tano moving tentatively closer. They graciously keep their distance, but Cody doesn’t miss the way their eyes sharpen with curiosity at the sight of him. He is really making a scene, isn’t he?

Rex shakes him harshly. “Cody?” he asks once again, more forcefully this time.

Cody tries to speak, he really does, but he still feels like he’s choking on air so nothing comes out of his mouth save for a pitiful wheezing sound. Rex seems to understand the situation because he immediately forces Cody to sit straighter, back pressed fully against the wall but head held high.

“Alright, _vod_. Focus on me. We’ve got to do something about your breathing. Do as I do, in for five and out for five, alright?”

It’s easy to fall back on his training and just follow orders without too many questions. Rex may not be his superior, but right now Cody has no way to get out of the situation without leaning on somebody. That somebody being Rex is just a stroke of luck in an otherwise bleak day. It’s a slow process, but focusing on his brother and breathing deeply and slowly as instructed allows Cody to partially regain control of himself. On the plus side, he no longer feels like he’s chocking on air. On the other side...well, there’s a certain clarity that comes with finally feeling like you’re not going to die with every breath you take.

He’s really _karked_ things up with Obi-Wan. The worst part is that he doesn’t even know what to do about it. He barely understood what Obi-Wan was saying.

“You want to tell me what happened, brother?”

Rex’s voice is still soft, except now there’s a hard undertone to it. Cody’s suddenly extremely aware that General Skywalker is standing right next to him. Cody needs to choose his words carefully. Skywalker isn’t exactly the patient type, especially when it comes to anything or anyone harming his former Master. At least, Cody’s pretty sure Skywalker is oblivious enough not to have noticed what’s being going on between his Master and Cody.

“Well?”

Cody makes the effort to look his brother in the eye. “I spoke with General Kenobi. It didn’t go...the way either of us wanted it to go.”

Rex looks downright confused. Cody doesn’t blame him, he’s still confused himself and he isn’t sure things are going to get clearer anytime soon.

“Must have been a hell of a conversation,” Skywalker tries making light of the situation but Cody dreads what is about to happen.

Obi-Wan is always willing to talk about the Force, and anytime a brother asks for clarification on what the Force can and cannot do, he’s always so eager to share his knowledge with anyone willing to listen. Cody himself has asked more than once to have it explained to him. He can’t consider himself an expert on _Jetii_ business, but at this point in the war, he feels confident he knows what a Force-bond between a Master and a Padawan implies. And how that bond endures even after a Padawan is Knighted.

Cody might have all sorts of doubts about General Skywalker, but one thing he knows for certain is that the man clearly loves his Master dearly. Sure enough, even though Skywalker has tried to keep things light, his eyes take on that glazed look that means he’s checking on Obi-Wan through their bond. Cody has an idea that what he’s bound to find, won’t be pretty.

For a tense moment, nothing happens.

Suddenly, Skywalker sucks in a hissing breath and lists a bit to the side, hand going to Commander Tano’s shoulder in search of stability. His eyes narrow and subconsciously he rests a hand on his stomach, fingers digging in slightly. He looks vaguely nauseous, as if he’d just eaten something particularly sour and unpleasant.

“Master, is everything okay?”

Cody grimaces at Commander Tano’s worried voice. She’s _aliit_ , like Skywalker, and Cody is the one responsible for what is happening.

Skywalker shakes his head, eyes already going to the Temple. He frowns deeply. “Rex, you okay to take care of things here?”

Rex glances at his General. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

That’s all Skywalker says before stalking up the stairs that lead to the Temple.

“Master, wait! I’m coming with you!”

Rex watches his superiors quickly disappear inside the Temple and heaves a sigh. They’re brothers and this is what brothers do for each other, but Cody feels incredibly guilty for disrupting what is probably Rex’s only leave day. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall at his back, wondering how exactly he got into this situation. Everything happened so quickly his head still feels like it’s spinning.

“You doing better?”

Cody nods slightly at his brother’s question.

“Good. Stand up then, you can’t spend all day on your _shebs_. Literally.”

Rex grabs him by the arm and helps him stand up, steadying him when he sways on his feet. With his brother’s hand resting at the small of his back, Cody starts walking away from the Temple. Every steps feels like a defeat, like he’s somehow deserting his General during an important battle where they’re supposed to be fighting side by side like always. Except this time Cody has no idea what they’re even fighting against, and he has no plan in mind on how to approach the problem.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Rex’s voice makes him stop. He turns his head to look at his little brother with a raised eyebrow.

“That transport goes to 79’s.”

“Yes.”

“We’re not going to 79’s.”

“Says who?”

“I already had to drag your drunk ass to the barracks once, I am not doing it again!” Rex is using his Captain voice, the one Cody’s heard him use with those ARC Troopers of his. It doesn’t really work on Cody, but he figures he’s caused enough of a scene already. No need to cause another by brawling with his little brother in public.

Together they make their way to the transport that will take them to the barracks. Cody already dreads having to walk by all his brothers from the 212th. One look at him, and all of them would know something has happened. Not to mention the fact that, by now, all of them are aware that he was supposed to spend the afternoon with their General. He can already feel the headache forming right behind his eyes.

When they leave the transport, though, Rex steers him away from the entrance.

“The entrance is that way, Rex.”

Rex levels him with an unimpressed gaze. “Do you really want to walk past all your men?”

Cody is swept by an overwhelming feeling of gratitude. He’s always known Rex is his favorite little brother for a reason. He loves his batchmates and brothers from the 212 th  , of course, but no one will ever be like his _Rex’ika_. From the moment he saw the little scrappy cadet in the midst of all the new brothers, Cody had taken a shine to him.

Rex leads them to a side entrance a few levels below. Cody expects to find a few brothers there as well, but the hallways are completely deserted. Rex takes turns left and right with no hesitation, as if he already knew where to go beforehand, and Cody wonders if maybe Rex hasn’t hauled him to the barracks one too many times to have learned all the hallways by heart. He even know which entrances are the least trafficked for _kriff_ ’s sake. It’s a depressing thought.

When they reach their destination, Cody realizes that Rex has led him to the same quarters he found himself in last time.

“Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll be right back.”

Rex is already walking away before Cody can even put together an answer. With a shrug, he walks inside his quarters and goes straight for the fresher. He forgoes the water shower and opts for the much quicker sonic. Rex said he would be right back. There is little sense in making him wait while Cody cleans up.

Done with the sonic, Cody dresses in his standard blacks and goes to sit on the bunk in the main portion of the quarter. He rests his head in his hands, letting exhaustion sweep over him. It’s barely late-meal time and he already feels like going to sleep to make the day end. He closes his eyes only to reopen them immediately, as Obi-Wan’s pained expression keeps flashing in his mind. What has he done? Why does he feel like every word he’d said had been wrong?

The door to his quarter opens and Rex steps back in. Cody doesn’t look up from where he is absolutely not sulking. He hears his brother opening something and then the sound of a liquid being poured.

“Here.”

Something smooth and cold nudges the side of his head. Cody gratefully accepts the glass full of a clear liquid.

“I thought we weren’t going to be drinking,” he says, glancing at Rex who pours himself a glass and sits next to him on the bed. He rests the bottle on the floor and clicks his glass with Cody’s.

“I never said that. I simply said that we weren’t going to 79’s.” Rex says with a little grin, knocking back his glass in one gulp.

Cody follows right behind him. He smacks his lips and frowns at the glass, savoring the strong alcohol sliding smoothly down his throat, leaving him pleasantly warm. “What is this?”

Rex pours both of them another glass, “Fives, Hardcase and Jesse’s version of Narcolethe.”

“Tastes nothing like it.” Cody takes a sip this time. “They need to try harder.”

“That’s what I told them.”

Cody’s missed this. Spending time with Rex has always been a priority for Cody when they were still on Kamino. They are not batchmates, and there is a year and a half difference of age between them, but the Commander has always considered Rex one of the closest brothers he has ever had. A great part of Cody’s original batch had been culled by the Template, while another part had been lost during the war, and Cody had been left alone or in the company of the other CC clones. Rex has somehow slid into place right next to him to the point where Cody couldn’t quite remember how things were before.

“So, do you want to tell me what happened with General Kenobi?” Rex speaks quietly, refilling their glasses a third time.

Rex knows things about him that no one else does, and he guards those precious shared thoughts and secrets jealously. He knows his little brother would listen to him, offering his attention and never his judgment. Yet, it’s so hard to tell him what happened. In part because Cody still can’t get his mind around Obi-Wan’s words. In part because he can’t shake the feeling that he’s the one who caused more pain to both of them, without even knowing how.

“You know I’m courting him, right?”

Rex nods, “Pretty sure every _vod_ knows it by now.”

“Things were going pretty well.” Cody pauses to take a sip, needing the warmth provided by the alcohol. “Something happened on Mandalore, I think. He spoke with the Duchess and then he said we needed to talk.”

“Do you know what they talked about?”

Cody shakes his head. “Not really. I think it had something to do with how things were between them when they were younger.”

“Oh.” Rex looks surprised by the revelation that Obi-Wan and the Duchess of Mandalore had had a relationship. Cody understands that all too well. “I never would have guessed.”

“Anyway, that’s not what he wanted to talk about.” This is where things get tricky. Is he allowed to tell Rex what Obi-Wan told him? Even if he doesn’t know what to do with Obi-Wan’s confession, what his Jedi told him is private. He shouldn’t disclose that, right? He’s already caused so much pain. Things are hard enough as it is, what if telling Rex is what really destroys everything?

“Cody?” Rex rests a hand on his shoulder.

This is Rex. If he can’t tell this to him, then who can he tell it to? He has no idea what to do, he needs someone to help him out.

“He...doesn’t want me.” Because that’s the point, isn’t it? That’s what really hurt.

Rex doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “Are you sure, _vod_? I saw him wear your colors, and he always has the blade on him. It seems like he does want you.”

Cody shakes his head. This is what he can’t seem to understand. How can Obi-Wan want him and _not_ want him at the same time? “Maybe he wants me with him...but he doesn’t _want_ me.”

Rex seems to not know what to say, much like Cody hadn’t know what to say.

“I don’t understand,” Cody forces the words out even though his throat feels like it’s closing up. “Aren’t you supposed to want the person you have feelings for? You meet someone, you like them and if they like you then eventually you have sex, right? That’s how it works, right?”

Rex remains silent.

“I want him so much,” Cody whispers, the words climbing painfully up his throat and out of his mouth. “Why doesn’t he want me?”

He’s not ashamed of the tears slowly streaming down his cheeks, but he cannot bear to let Rex see how much pain he’s in. He’s the older brother, he’s supposed to always be calm and collected, a steady rock against which all his brothers can lean whenever they need it. But saying out loud what he’s been thinking since Obi-Wan admitted not desiring him the way Cody wants to be desired has opened the gates to his pain.

Everything hurts. Feeling undesirable, lost, unbalanced, Obi-Wan’s face when Cody uttered those terrible words. Everything mashes together until Cody thinks he will never be able to stop crying and feeling like his chest has been split open for the galaxy to see his heart laid bare.

He barely notices when Rex sets their glasses aside and tugs him around until they are both laying on the bed. Rex curls protectively around him, the way Cody used to when they were on Kamino and Rex had been singled out once again because of his hair. It’s a different time and a different pain that needs to be soothed by physical contact.

“It’s alright, _vod_ ,” Rex whispers against his forehead, arms tightening around Cody. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Cody can only move closer to his brother, muffling his sobs against Rex. For once, he can be the one seeking comfort and strength in others.

“Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shebs - Ass


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reading is fundamental.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go with the next chapter! We're getting close to the end, guys! Don't worry, though, I don't think this will be the only story in the universe.
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for the amazing response this fic is getting. I never thought people could like something I only really started to write for myself!
> 
> PS: It might take me some time to write and post the next chapter. I am participating in a Star Wars Secret Santa event so I need to focus on the little one-shot I want to write for my secret santa!

There’s a difference between waking up after a night out drinking, and waking up after crying yourself to sleep.

Cody groans lowly, face smushed into the thin slip of tissue the GAR likes to call a pillow. He already has a headache pounding wildly against his temples, nose clogged beyond any salvation, and a mouth so dry it rivals the desert. Sprawled on the thin bunk, Cody remains immobile, hoping beyond hope to fall back asleep and wake up in a few hours once his system has had the time to fix him up to a normal state of being.

Long minutes pass where Cody turns his head first this way, then the other, trying to find a way to breathe through a nose that has first one nostril clogged then, mysteriously, the other. At a certain point, his stomach starts rumbling, loudly reminding him that he hasn’t eaten anything since the previous afternoon. With a metabolism as fast as his, skipping meals is a definite no-no.

With a pained groan, he rolls with difficulty onto his back, eyes firmly closed to avoid kicking his headache up a notch. The empty space next to him on the bunk is telling.

“Rex?” he calls into the empty room.

Silence.

“Rex?” he says louder, raising his head a little and squinting into the darkness. “ _Osik_...lights!”

Having forgotten to specify how high he wanted the lights, the room becomes suddenly so bright that Cody has to cover his eyes with his hands, headache flaring up to the point where he feels slightly nauseous.

“Lower! Lower!”

The lights in the room lower to the minimum, bathing Cody’s surroundings in a pale light that doesn’t hurt as much as before. Even so, Cody keeps his hands over his eyes, riding out the slow throbbing in his temples. When the ache reduces to a bothersome but still manageable pulse nesting right behind his eyes, he lowers his hands and slowly opens his eyes.

Rex is nowhere to be found. When Cody listens intently, thinking that perhaps his brother is taking advantage of the fresher in the other room, the only sound that reaches his ears is the disgruntled grumbling of his stomach. Cody presses a hand to his belly, feeling it rumble under his palm, and wonders where his brother is.

With a tired sigh, Cody slings his legs off the bed. He wades into the fresher to brush his teeth and see in what condition he is in. He splashes cold water onto his face, trying to make himself feel a little more awake. As he looks into the tiny mirror over the sink, tired eyes look back at him. He has to admit he is not a pretty sight at the moment. There are dark bags under his eyes and tired lines etched into his face. The white of his eyes is slightly red, a bad sign if he ever saw one. His hair is not faring much better, curls a mess he needs to detangle unless he wants to pull a Waxer and just shave everything off.

Battle won against his hair, he drinks for long minutes and then goes back to sit on his bunk, snatching a datapad on the way to check his personal messages.

 _You have one(1) message from, H.G. Obi-Wan Kenobi_.

The words make him freeze.

The message is on his personal account, the official one where he usually receives orders from the higher-ups and where he can contact any-one of his subordinates. If Obi-Wan has sent a message here, it means that it has nothing to do with what happened the previous day. Perhaps, his Jedi simply wants to tell him that they have been assigned a new mission. His mind stumbles on that last thought. He wonders if after what happened Obi-Wan is still _his_ Jedi, and how they are going to maintain their professionalism if he no longer is. That last thought is so painful that Cody immediately tries to focus on something else.

Professionalism will be the last of his problems if he has managed to _kark_ things up so spectacularly that Obi-Wan wants the Courting to end.

With a trembling finger, he opens up the message. No use delaying the inevitable.

What he reads is a simple two-sentence order.

_Commander Cody,_

_Please prepare the_ Negotiator _for take-off. I will escort Duchess Kryze to the Senate in the afternoon, but we will depart immediately afterwards for a new mission in the Outer-Rim._

_High-General Obi-Wan Kenobi._

Cody releases a breath he doesn’t remember holding. It’s a pretty straightforward message, polite and professional. He feels his heart lurch in his chest at the mention of Duchess Kryze, that same ugly feeling he’s been feeling since she spoke to his Jedi rises again inside of him. She’s the reason they’re in this mess now, isn’t she? Cody grits his teeth, hands balling up into fists before he relaxes and unclenches them.

He takes a deep breath and starts sending messages to all the pertinent officers on the _Negotiator_ , relaying the orders to prep the ship for take-off.

He’s sending the last orders when Rex comes back from wherever he had gone.

“You’re awake, finally,” Rex says, stepping inside the room with a tray in his hands. One mystery less to figure out. “I got you something to eat.”

Cody nods his thanks as he grabs the tray and sets it onto his lap. Lifting the top of the tray, he finds out that first-meal in the barracks today comprises hot blue-milk with caf, soft-looking slices of bread with a bit of butter on the side, and eggs and stripes of thin-cut meat. It’s a stark difference from the standard rations he’s used to eat on-board the _Negotiator_ , and it makes him feel envious of the quality food the Coruscant Guard no doubt partakes in regularly.

“Is the 501st moving out?” Cody asks, taking a big bite out of the impromptu sandwich he’s created with what Rex brought him. His little brother is in full armor, bucket held under an arm.

“Yes, General Skywalker gave us our new orders during the night.” Rex sets his bucket down on the floor and goes to sit on the bunk next to Cody. “We’re leaving later in the day but I have to get back on the _Resolute_ to oversee the preparations.”

Cody nods along. It makes sense for the 501 st  to move out together with the 212  th . The two Battalions work together often enough that sometimes Cody can’t remember which men are his, and which ones are Rex’s. This time they probably won’t fight together, but it’s not unusual for them to depart at the same time and travel for sometime along the same hyperlanes.

As he keeps eating his first-meal, Cody feels Rex sneaking glances at him, no doubt checking to see if he’s about to have another breakdown like the previous evening. He can’t blame his little brother for his concern, Cody himself is still more than a little rattled by what happened with Obi-Wan. He doesn’t want to think about the way things will be when they see one another on the _Negotiator_. Still, he can’t ignore what happened and hope for things to fix themselves.

“Do you want to say what’s on your mind, _Rex’ika_? I can practically _hear_ you think.” He says around a piece of sandwich.

Rex looks at him unimpressed. “What are you going to do?”

“About what?”

“Why do you have to be like this?” Rex growls under his breath, standing up abruptly. “I suddenly have unending respect for General Kenobi. I would have snapped too if I had to deal with this every day.”

“Alright, calm down.” Cody shoves the now empty trail to the side and leans forward to grab Rex’s wrist. He tugs his brother back, making him sit back on the bed. “I’m sorry alright?”

He moves to rest his back against the wall, his little brother right next to him. Cody presses their shoulders together in a silent apology. Rex sighs beside him but leans right back into him, accepting Cody’s gesture for what it is. It’s a good thing that Rex is used to the way Cody instinctively tries to get away from situations where he has to admit he’s done something stupid. Even though the longnecks have done their best to stomp any sense of emotional openness out of the clones, Cody has never had any problems expressing his feelings. Admitting a mistake though…

“You need to stop doing this, Cody.”

“I know,” he admits. “I just don’t know where to begin fixing things.”

“An apology might be good.”

Cody leans his head against the wall, eyes falling closed. “I know I need to apologize. It’s just…” he swallows heavily, the words difficult to say. “I said some terrible things to him.”

Rex shifts against him. “What did you say?”

“When he…” he licks his lips, his right hand clutches the bed sheets like a lifeline. “When he said he didn’t do sex, I thought he meant he had some physical problem. Which would have been a little annoying, I admit that, but I figured we could find a way to make it work.”

He looks at Rex on his left and he doesn’t find judgment in his eyes. He doesn’t find understanding either. There’s a peculiar expression on his brother’s face. He seems perturbed by what he has just heard, which Cody can understand, but he also seems to be offended. On second though, Cody can understand that too. Now that he can think more clearly, he realizes that he’d stepped into his conversation with Obi-Wan on the wrong foot right from the beginning.

“Alright, not your brightest moment but not too terrible,” Rex comments, trying to keep things light.

“There’s more.” Cody lowers his eyes to his fingers playing with a loose thread in his pants. “He said he doesn’t like sex and I think that’s the point where I started to loose control of the conversation.”

“Why?”

Cody frowns at his brother. “Why what?”

“Why were you so upset by what he said?” Rex asks genuinely curious.

“Because sex is…” he’s not sure he knows how to put into words what sex is. He’s never had to explain it before. Everyone knows why sex is great, after all. “Come on, Rex. You know what I mean.”

Rex stares at him in silence. He remains so still and so deadpan that Cody feels the need to defend his position.

“Sex is…” he searches for the right words that will put everything into the right perspective. “The first time I did it, I was terrified and frankly slightly uncomfortable. I’d never had a problem being naked in front of people, but that time it felt different, you know?” Rex doesn’t offer any sign of agreement, but Cody is deep in his thoughts so he doesn’t even notice. “He was a complete stranger and I was about to be naked in front of him and we were about to have sex. It was terrifying. But then we did it and it felt so good, I felt so good during and after. I had never felt like that.”

He feels Rex’s eyes on him, silently appraising him. “I still don’t understand why you were so upset, though.”

Cody runs his fingers through his hair, choosing his words carefully. “Because if it felt that good, that...that... _intimate_ with a complete stranger and all those that came after…” he shakes his head. “I can’t even imagine how amazing it could be with Obi-Wan.” He looks at Rex with a raised eyebrow. “Do you really need me to tell you about all the things I’ve imagined to do with Obi-Wan?”

Rex shoves him to the side. “No, thank you. I think I get what you’re trying to say.”

Cody chuckles under his breath. He loves riling Rex up when it comes to sex. His little brother has always being quite reserved when it comes to his private life, not unlike Obi-Wan now that he thinks about it. But Cody, with his older brother rights, takes great pleasure in messing with him and making him blush like a shiny going through puberty.

“Alright, so we’ve established that you really like sex and you would like to do it with General Kenobi,” Rex shudders while pronouncing the General’s name. He’s not paid enough for this _osik_ (he’s not paid, period. But that’s a whole different story). “However, he doesn’t want to do it with you. Am I getting this right?”

“He said it’s not just that he doesn’t want to have sex with me. He said he just doesn’t want it. Ever.” Cody grimaces, knowing what he has to say next.

“I know that look.” Rex never misses anything when it comes to his brother. “Cody, what did you do?”

“When he said that,” he says slowly, shifting on the bed until he was sitting cross-legged next to his brother. “I would say that I completely lost control and I said…” he sighs deeply, shoving away the instinct to defend himself that he knows he has no right to indulge. “I said that maybe he needed to speak to a medic.”

Rex sucks in a breath, and the reaction reminds Cody so much of the way Obi-Wan looked at him that he almost feels like he’s back in his Jedi’s quarters. He’d known then how much his words would hurt Obi-Wan, and he knows it now that Rex is reacting in much the same way his Jedi had.

He eyes his brother, waiting for him to do or say anything. Rex leans forward and rests his head in his hand, emitting a low groan. Cody winces at the sound but wisely chooses to remain silent. He knows what he said is wrong, and he knows that those words, more than anything else, hurt Obi-Wan deeply.

“I thought Boil was the one who spoke without thinking,” Rex says, eyes meeting Cody’s over the edge of his fingers. “You can’t say stuff like that. I never thought I would have to worry about you saying something like that to General Kenobi.”

“I know.”

He wants to say that he doesn’t know why he said those words, but he knows he would be lying. Hearing Obi-Wan say that he didn’t desire him had done something awful to Cody. In the moment, he’d felt so undesirable, so unlovable that he’d said the first thing that had come to his mind, no matter how horrible it had sounded even in his own head. And he knows that it’s not an excuse, but he doesn’t think that he could have done anything to prevent those words from being spoken out loud.

“You need to apologize for that, first things first, Cody.” Rex is issuing orders at this point.

“I know,” Cody repeats. “I don’t know how.”

Rex looks at him like he just turned into a Jawa in front of him. “What do you mean you don’t know how? You go to him and you say ‘I’m sorry for what I said, I was wrong’.”

Cody shakes his head. “It’s not that simple. I want to apologize, Stars do I want it. But I think I need to understand what he was telling me before I go to him and beg his forgiveness.”

“I don’t know, Cody.” Rex scoots closer to the edge of the bunk and throws himself down on his back. “There’s not much to understand. It seems to me he was quite clear when he said ‘I don’t like sex’.”

“Yeah, but he made it sound like it wasn’t an Obi-Wan-thing as much as a people-thing.” Cody lies down next to his brother, mirroring him. “It felt like I should have known what he was talking about, you know?”

Rex looks pensive as he curls an arm under his head to rest more comfortably on the bunk. “The _Kaminiise_ certainly didn’t tell us everything we needed to know about sex and stuff, that’s for sure.”

“No shit.”

The longnecks’ idea of sexual education on Kamino had been a simple course on humanoid anatomy, followed by other similar courses on the other more prevalent species that made up the Republic. Only the clones created to be medics had had more in depth courses that they had then passed on to their brothers. As a result, all clones left Kamino knowing how nat-born babies are decanted but not much more.

Cody, like many other brothers, figured out his attractions to men all on his own. The longnecks, who treated all brothers like products, either didn’t care what Cody had done with some of the instructors on Kamino, or they simply didn’t think a clone could experience sexual needs and wants. Either way, Cody had taken advantage of that myopic view and experimented on his own. He’d spoken to Helix, a brother in the medical training, about the technical and medical side of sex, and then he’d gone from there.

Once the war had begun and the _vode_ had started to come into contact with new species from all over the Galaxy, they’d all started to realize that there was more to sex than what they had believed.

“Remember that planet we went to during the first month of the war? What was it called?” Cody asks his brother.

“Suur,” Rex answers with no hesitation. “I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Cody chuckles under his breath. “Hard to forget a planet where shaking hands is considered sex.”

Which just goes to prove the point Cody is trying to make. Maybe Obi-Wan not liking sex is a Stewjoni-thing, and Cody’s suggestion that he visit a medic had been an offense to his culture. Maybe it has nothing to do with where Obi-Wan was born and more to do with whom Obi-Wan is. There’s a big difference. That’s why Cody wants to know. Apologizing because one has offended someone’s culture is one thing. Apologizing because one has offended someone’s entire being is another.

Rex turns his head to look at him and Cody meets his gaze head on. “Do you still want to court him?”

“Of course I do!” He doesn’t need to even think about it.

“Even with the no sex?” Rex presses.

Cody lets out a breath through his nose. He gives himself a long moment to think about it. “I want him, Rex.” He says quietly. “If we chose to end everything, I think I could still work with him, fight by his side and watch his back with no hesitation. I could do it.” He’s sure of it. No matter what happens, he will watch Obi-Wan’s back until he draws his last breath. “But what I feel for him won’t just go away.”

“You really got it bad, _vod_.”

He chuckles quietly. “I really got it bad,” he agrees.

The two remain in silence, allowing Cody’s mind to wander. He’d never thought that he’d get to this point. This isn’t a situation he’s equipped to deal with. Give him the worst possible battle situation, and he’ll find a way to win it, or at the very least he’ll form a plan to get to the best possible outcome, no matter the casualties. All for the GAR. It’s what he’s been created to do. He’s well aware that his life’s purpose is to follow orders like a good soldier and die for the Republic when the time will come.

Falling in love with his General has never been part of the plan.

He expects to feel something, perhaps panic, at the realization of his feelings. Instead, all he feels is acceptance. For the longest time he’d wondered what the warmth in his heart meant every time Obi-Wan smiled, or even looked at him. Some times, Cody had found himself employing his considerable knowledge of strategy, to devise ways in which to make Obi-Wan laugh, because there was nothing sweeter than that quietly joyous sound after a hard battle. More than once, Cody had gone out of his way to make sure his General was alright, checking him over for injuries, or even simply making sure that the man felt emotionally stable after a particularly trying mission.

He’d told himself that he was just doing his job as Commander. He’d told himself that what he was doing for his General, was the exact same thing he would do for all his brothers.

_Who was I trying to fool?_

The sound of a commlink going off interrupts Cody’s musings.

“Shit,” Rex hisses, checking the message he’s just received. He shuffles out of the bunk, straightening his armor and walking toward the door. “General Skywalker has requested my presence on the _Resolute_.”

“Duty first, brother. Don’t worry, I understand.” Cody waves him off, no hard feelings.

Rex doesn’t leave, though. He remains by the door, hand poised over the pad that will make it slide open. He sighs, shoulders dropping together with the sound, and then he turns around. He opens a pouch on his utility belt and takes out a data-chip.

He offers it to Cody in silence.

Cody takes it with a frown. “What’s this?”

Rex scratches the back of his head, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Look, I wasn’t going to interfere but, since you seem determined to make things work with General Kenobi, I think I have to do something. After all, the General is _aliit_ right?”

“Okay?” He’s touched by Rex words, but he still doesn’t know what the data-chip is for.

“If you really want to understand General Kenobi, I suggest you read what’s in there. Commander Tano gave it to me a couple of months ago and it helped.” Rex pauses, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Just don’t ask any questions, alright?”

“Do you need to tell me something, _vod_?”

Rex grimaces. “Just read it,” he cuts their conversation short. “I really need to go now, Cody. _Ret’urcye mhi, vod_.”

Cody nods in response and watches his brother leave. He turns the little data-chip in his hand, wondering what’s in it and how it could possibly help him with Obi-Wan. Rex had looked extremely uncomfortable as he handed it over, which really didn’t inspire too much confidence in Cody. Still, Rex wouldn’t have given him something that could make the situation even worse than what it already is. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had to trust his little brother blindly.

He checks his chrono to see if he has the time to take a quick look at the content of the data-chip, but he realizes that it’s time for him to get on-board the _Negotiator_ and oversee the final steps to prep it for the next mission. There’s not much he can do to ease the tension that will surely be present between him and Obi-Wan on a personal level, but he can damn well make sure none of that unpleasantness will bleed into their professional relationship by being the best Commander there is.

He wears his armor with quick, practiced gestures and pockets the little data-chip, making sure not to lose it. He looks around the room, checking for anything he might need, and then leaves, ready to get back to his job.

The time they spend in the Outer Rim is not a disaster, though Cody is loathe to call it a success.

The 212th is assigned mission after mission with barely enough time to rest in between. At first, it doesn’t seem much of a problem. The men are used to grueling missions and long campaigns that leave everyone feeling stretched thin, exhaustion too light of a word to describe the state each trooper is left in.

Still, they trudge on, because this is what they have been created for and because the _vode_ know that each battle won, each world liberated or guarded against the CIS, brings them closer to the end of the war.

One year in, and Cody already feels the war has gone on long enough.

It’s after two months of back to back missions that the first cracks start to show.

Assaults that before were completed without a problem, now started to encounter hitch after hitch and took twice as long to yield results. They lost more vehicles and weapons. Armors broke and failed to protect a brother because there hadn’t been the time to properly fix any previous damage to their integrity. The medics had to work double-time to save as many brothers as they could, with fewer and fewer supplies.

The Remembrance got longer and longer.

Just today, as they finished their latest mission, Cody has had to mark down the death of fifty-seven brothers. Soon, once all their duties have been completed, the brothers would gather in small groups and sing the names of their lost brothers marching on. Cody can barely stand the thought. And yet he knows he will sing with them. As clones, they have little to no rights, but this is something the brothers can give to one another, a peaceful passing and the reassurance that they will be forever remembered.

_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum._

The Commander walks through the camp the 212th set up and observes how the men are doing after the last day of battle. Boil and Waxer look no worse for the wear, sitting as they are around a small fire close to their squad’s tent, armors dented but still intact. Gearshift is already drunk and normally Cody would say something, but the man has lost his whole squad today so the Commander can close an eye for once. He makes a mental note to remember to check on Gearshift in the coming days, make sure he feels alright. Longshot and Wooley are nowhere to be found, but last time Cody saw them, they were doing fine.

The rest of the men look tired, grieving, but glad they are still alive and eager to revel in the life still beating in their hearts. Cody has little doubt that the Remembrance will be followed by a party like it has never been seen before. He hopes Obi-Wan will share their joy and participate in the festivity.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Cody spots Obi-Wan not far from where he’s standing surveying his brothers. His Jedi is talking to a troubled-looking Singer, likely offering words of comfort and condolences for the brothers lost. As Cody watches, Obi-Wan reaches into a pouch on his belt and passes something to the young clone. Singer doesn’t move to accept it, so Obi-Wan takes his hand and gently presses something in it, curling Singer’s fingers around it. With a parting hand on Singer’s shoulder, Obi-Wan turns to leave.

Cody quickly ducks into the medic tent, not feeling ready to speak with his Jedi yet.

The brothers with severe wounds have already been transferred to the _Negotiator_ , leaving the medic tent practically deserted. There are only two brothers present, both of them already asleep in their cots.

Cody shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Since there’s medical equipment lying around, he could take advantage of the situation and care for the cut that started on the back of his hand and reached past his wrist.. He’d decided to forego medical treatment in favor of making things easier for Bones. The medic had had to work harder than ever with all the wounded that had swarmed his tent, so Cody figured an eight-inches-long cut could be ignored and cared for in private. Now is as good a time as any.

He gathers the supplies he needs and sits down next to a low, steel side-table. He unlatches his vambrace and takes off his gloves, rolling the right sleeve up to expose the cut. It’s not too bad. Long but not worryingly deep. It’s still bleeding sluggishly, enough that his sleeve is thoroughly soaked. Cody eyes the cut, pondering how to proceed. With some bacta, the wound would close in a night, leaving only a pink reminder in the morning. Their supplies are running low, though, and Cody doesn’t like the idea of wasting precious bacta on a cut that isn’t life-threatening.

Old-school stitching it is, then.

Cody finds needle and thread in a drawer in the corner of the tent. He has antiseptics and bandages, now he only needs to find a way to sterilize the needle before actually stitching himself up. As far as he can see, there’s nothing that can help him with that in the tent. He eyes his blaster critically. It’s not exactly standard procedure but it can be rigged to overheat for a few moments, possibly long enough to get the job done.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Cody looks up, taking in Obi-Wan standing in the entrance of the tent. He’s holding something in his hands, though it’s dark enough that unless he takes a few steps forward, Cody can’t tell what it is.

It takes a second, but Cody’s brain kicks into gear and he stumbles on his feet. “General! I didn’t hear you come in.”

Obi-Wan waves a hand at him as he walks closer, silently telling him that he’s not there as his commanding officer. Cody relaxes and falls down on his stool, eyeing his Jedi. Obi-Wan looks around, eyes quickly spying an abandoned stool close-by that he pulls to the table with a flick of his fingers.

“I thought the Force wasn’t supposed to be used for things like that,” Cody attempts some humor to dispel the tension that he feels quickly mounting in his chest.

He’s not ready. He needs more time to plan what he wants to say to Obi-Wan. The data-chip Rex had given him two weeks ago has certainly helped, but Cody needs some more time.

“It’ll be our secret,” Obi-Wan smiles, sitting down in front of Cody. Gently, he takes needle and thread from Cody’s hands. “Give me these. You know Bones’ stance on self-stitching. He’s never going to let you live this down if you make a mess of your arm, which you will if you thread the needle with only one hand.”

His Jedi puts on the table a heating disk (so that’s what he’d been holding in his hands), the kind usually used to cook a quick meal without wasting too much time. Slowly, Obi-Wan heats the needle and then lets it cool down before attaching the suture thread. His Jedi carefully cleans the wound, dabbing a cloth dipped in bacta on the edges of the cut. Once that is done, he takes the needle in one hand and Cody’s forearm in the other.

“Ready?”

Cody swallows. “You don’t have to do this,” he says, lowly.

“I want to,” Obi-Wan murmurs back.

Slowly, he moves the needle closer to the cut to start delicate process of stitching the wound close. Cody diverts his eyes. He’s not squeamish, he doubts fighting in the war allows anyone to avoid seeing a slew of atrocities that would make a sane man go mad. But the needle piercing his flesh is a disturbing sight he will gladly not focus on, thank you very much.

He focuses on Obi-Wan, instead, and on the painted armor he still wears. Oh, what a relief had been to see his Jedi still clad in his colors. Two weeks ago, when Cody had boarded the _Negotiator_ to prep her to leave, he’d been ready to face an armor-less Obi-Wan. He’d been sure his Jedi was about to reject his courtship after what had happened, and taking off the armor they had painted together would have been a clear statement that everything was over. Cody had almost cried in front of his brothers when Obi-Wan had stepped onto the bridge still wearing Cody’s colors. The relief he’d felt could not be put into words.

“How did you get this?” Obi-Wan’s voice breaks the silence.

Cody glances down and swallows hard at the sight of the needle threading slowly through his skin. “Uh…” he strives to focus on Obi-Wan’s question instead of on his hands. “To be honest, I don’t really know. It must have happened sometime during the last battle. Things got messy toward the end.”

Obi-Wan hums at his words, eyes firmly set on the work he’s doing. “Well, I’m glad it’s not a serious wound. You will probably end up with another scar, though. I’m afraid my stitches are not up to Bones’ standards.”

“Better than mine,” Cody jokes. Obi-Wan rewards him with a soft smile.

They lapse into silence again. Cody hates it with a passion, because it’s not the easy silence there was sometimes between them. This is a silence made up of unspoken words and thoughts. The worst part is knowing that Cody can only blame himself for the situation. He’s the one who caused more pain with his words. Obi-Wan had only been trying to explain himself, to share with Cody something about himself that is, if not the most essential part of him, at least a big part of who he is. He’d never meant to cause Cody pain. He knows it now.

Cody’s free hand goes to a pouch in his belt, fingering the small data-chip that Rex had given him and that had provided a much needed insight into his Jedi.

It had been a surprise to load the chip into his datapad and watch as a book called _So You Don’t Know Who You Like_ appeared on the screen. Cody had no idea what that book was, but the silly pictures on the front-page had revealed that it was a book for children. Only his faith in that Rex wouldn’t have given that specific book to him if it weren’t relevant to his situation, kept Cody from closing it and forgetting about it.

Reading through a couple of pages had revealed that it had been a book about sexuality and its spectrum. Apparently, all the Masters in the Jedi Temple agreed that it was the best book to explain sexuality to the shiny _Jetiise_ in the creche. At least when it came to the ones belonging to humanoid species.

At that point, Cody had started to read the book with honest interest.

It was through that book that he learned that, if he wanted, he could use the label ‘homosexual’ to describe himself, and that his brother Bly, who only liked women, could call himself ‘heterosexual’. There was so much to learn through that book. Wolffe, who liked both men and women, apparently was bisexual, as was Alpha-17. And so much more. The book wasn’t telling Cody anything new per se, but it was giving definitions and clarity to things Cody had already noticed but had never really taken the time to understand.

As much as it had felt pleasant to learn all those new definitions, the moment that glued his eyes to the screen had been the mention of asexuality. The explanation had been tremendously short and simple. An asexual person does not experience sexual attraction. And that was what Obi-Wan had been trying to say, wasn’t it? It didn’t really help as an explanation but at least now Cody had a term to research.

He’d tossed the datapad to the side, mentally promising himself to finish it later, mind already focused on what he needed to do with the new information he had acquired.

He couldn’t search on the holonet as to do so he would have to use his personal account, monitored by the GAR. But what he could do, was ask for help through the proper channels. That was how he ended up comming the Jedi Temple to request a direct line to the Archives, specifically to one Jedi Master Jocasta Nu. No one asked why he was advancing such a request. After all, if Marshal Commander Cody requested to speak to the most erudite of the Masters in the Order, surely he was doing it because it would help the GAR in its war effort.

As far as he was concerned, Cody considered repairing his relationship with Obi-Wan of the utmost importance in the war.

The tricky part had been figuring out how to request the intel Cody needed, without giving away that he was using the GAR’s official channels for things other than war-related. Thankfully, Master Nu was an incredibly clever woman and so, while she discussed with Cody what were the best treatises on intergalactic warfare in possession of the Jedi Order, her eyes effortlessly followed the rhythmic tapping of Cody’s finger. Cody really needed to do something to thank the woman the next time he saw her.

In less than an hour, Cody had more than enough material to start his research.

Two weeks later and he is still confused, but he at least is now knowledgeable enough to have a conversation with Obi-Wan where they would hopefully figure out how to proceed. Now, he only needs to find a way to broach the topic.

Cody observes how Obi-Wan keeps on working silently on stitching his arm up. It’s clear that his Jedi does not mind the silence and, if he does mind, then he has no intention of being the one to make the first move. Fair enough. Cody had expected that he’d have to be the one to put in more than some effort to mend the wound between them.

The Commander eyes the two brothers seemingly asleep in their beds. He honestly wouldn’t put it past them to feign sleep just to be the first to know what is going between their General and their Commander. He knows that everyone noticed the change in his relationship with his Jedi, and Waxer and Boil both were showing signs that they were on the verge of demanding he explain to them what happened on Coruscant.

He chances a glance at his wound. Obi-Wan is almost done with the stitches, leaving Cody with little time to spare.

He swallows down his nervousness and just says what he needs to. “I have been reading for the past two weeks.” He glances once again at his brothers, their eyes still firmly closed and breathing slow. “About what we talked about on Coruscant.”

Obi-Wan’s hands don’t waver in their work. Slow and steady, they keep stitching up his skin as if Cody had never said a word. But the Commander knows that Obi-Wan has heard him loud and clear. For just a moment, Obi-Wan’s blue-gray eyes fly up to meet his in silent surprise, before focusing once again on what he’s doing.

“Have you?” he asks in a quiet voice.

Cody nods. “Yes, I’ve been doing some research. I have learned some new things and I think I understand a little what you were trying to say.”

Obi-Wan remains silent for a moment, mulling over his words. He blows out a quiet breath and his shoulders drop down in a relaxed slope. “It’s good that you’re broadening your horizons. I’m glad our conversation did some good.”

So far so good.

His Jedi is cautious with his words, but at least he’s listening and giving Cody the benefit of the doubt.

Cody inches forward in his chair, knees brushing lightly against Obi-Wan’s in a way that makes Cody’s breath hitch. After two weeks of not touching Obi-Wan in any way, this simple brushing against one another feels overwhelming. Cody bends forward, hoping to catch Obi-Wan’s eyes with his own, but his Jedi remains stubbornly focused on the wound. No matter, Cody only needs him to listen. Anything else is a bonus.

“I need to apologize.” He murmurs. “The things I said to you...they were cruel, thoughtless and wrong. _I_ was wrong.”

“You were.” Obi-Wan’s quiet agreement is a knife to the heart that Cody knows he has to endure. “But you are trying to do better, which is far more than what people normally do.”

Obi-Wan places one last stitch before putting down needle and thread to look critically at his work. Seemingly satisfied with the way the wound will close in due time, his Jedi twists open a small bottle of bacta, scooping up a small amount on his fingers. Carefully, he smooths the bacta on top of the wound, paying particular attention to the edges of the cut where the skin has taken on an angry reddish color.

“Do you have any questions for me?” Obi-Wan asks, reaching for a roll of gauze.

Cody licks his lips, organizing his thoughts. “As a matter of fact, I do have some questions that I need to ask you and I was wondering if we could try again to talk? This time, I promise to listen and not react in such a poor way.”

Obi-Wan taps lightly on his arm and Cody obligingly raises it, allowing his Jedi to start dressing the wound. Cody’s attempt at lighting the mood is completely lost as Obi-Wan silently keeps working on dressing the wound tightly enough that the stitches won’t come loose. Cody pushes back the apprehension that is threatening to take a hold of him. He can’t rush Obi-Wan into making a decision, not after the way they left things because Cody had been too caught into his own desires to listen to what his Jedi was trying to share with him.

The wait feels never-ending.

Round and round, Obi-Wan’s hands roll the gauze over his wound until it is completely covered. His Jedi ties the edge of the dressing to avoid it unraveling at the barest movement, and then even rolls down Cody’s sleeve to cover it up.

“Thank you,” Cody murmurs, almost afraid of speaking at this point.

Obi-Wan rest his hands on his thighs. His eyes fall to the floor, eyebrows furrowed as he thinks long and deep about how he wants to respond to Cody’s request. An exhausted sigh signals that a decision has been taken.

“The things you said to me cannot be taken lightly, Cody.” Obi-Wan starts to say in that calm tone of voice he always uses whenever he has to explain something to the troops, knowing they won’t like the insane plan he has concocted to win the battle and save the day. “I know who I am and I am not ashamed of myself. It’s taken me a long time to get to this point, to loving myself the way I am no matter what other people might think of me. It hasn’t been easy and sometimes it still feels like I have a long road ahead of myself.”

Obi-Wan pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in. Cody doesn’t think he’s ever felt more mortified and thoroughly chastised in his life. He thought he’d understood the harm he’d caused with his poorly thought words. It seems he had underestimated how much words could actually hurt when they came from someone close to you.

“Do you understand why I’m telling you this?” His Jedi stares deeply into Cody’s eyes, gaze unwavering. “You’re not the first person to say those things to me, and it would be naive of me to think that you will be the last. But I will not allow anyone to speak to me like that. Not even you, Cody. That is my breaking point. Anything else, we can work through. If there is no respect, however, it would be better to end things right here.”

“No!” Cody panics, falling to his knees in front of Obi-Wan and pressing his forehead against the back of Obi-Wan’s hand, Cody’s own hand fastened around his wrist. “ _Ni ceta! Ni ceta!_ _Ni ceta!_ ” He whispers those words fervently, hoping against hope that Obi-Wan won’t decide to end things.

He feels a hand curling against the back of his head, and lips pressing softly against his hair. “ _K’uur,_ Cody.”

The soft words are so full of affection that Cody feels tears gather at the corner of his eyes. Obi-Wan shifts against him, the hand against which Cody had pressed his forehead slips away and urges the Commander to raise his head and look Obi-Wan in the eyes.

“You don’t need to do this. I’m not saying these things because I want you to humiliate yourself in front of me, Cody.” Obi-Wan says, eyes brimming with deep affection. “I’m asking you for respect while offering you the same courtesy in return.” A shudders run through him before he speaks again. “I just can’t bear to hear you say those words again.”

“Never again!” Cody swears immediately. His hands shoots up to curl against Obi-Wan’s cheeks and his heart sings when his Jedi leans into the touch and doesn’t protest when Cody pulls him down to rest their foreheads against one another. “I didn’t-” He stops. He wants to say ‘I didn’t mean those words’ but it would be a lie. His intentions have never been malicious, but at the time he’d genuinely thought that Obi-Wan might be in need of professional help. He changes his words, saying something he knows in his bones to be true. “Causing you pain was never my intention.”

Obi-Wan’s breath trembles against him when he exhales sharply. “I know, Cody. I know you never meant those words that way. It’s why I agree that we need to try again.”

The Commander nods against him, relief pouring inside of him and making him feel light-headed. He hasn’t ruined everything. There’s still a chance that things might work between them.

They stay locked in their embrace for a long time, until Cody’s knees start to protest. Obi-Wan helps him to his feet and then takes a respectful step back. Cody isn’t offended by that. He already got so much out of their little talk. They’ve managed to smooth things up a bit and Cody even got to hold his Jedi in his arms again. He understands if Obi-Wan wants to slow things down until they can properly talk again.

Obi-Wan leaves the tent saying that he needs to check on the men one more time, before doing as much paperwork as he can before the Remembrance. Cody watches him leave feeling lighter than he has in weeks.

“If any part of this conversation leaves this tent, I swear you both will be assigned on permanent latrine duty.” Cody speaks without turning toward the two brothers in bed. He’s not even sure they’re awake, but better to be safe than sorry.

“Yes, sir.”

“ _I still don’t know why we’re doing this._ ”

“Because in less than an hour I’m going to Obi-Wan’s quarters and we’re going to figure out how things are going to work between us. Also, you’re my little brother and I need your help.”

“ _..._ _I hate you._ ”

“I will pretend I didn’t hear you.”

Rex’s hologram rolls his eyes.

The 212th has finally obtained a few precious days away from the battlefield. The first night on-board the _Negotiator_ had been spent remembering their fallen brothers. As always, it had been an emotional day for everyone. The series of missions they has participated in meant that practically everyone had lost a brother or a batchmate. Cody’s batchmates were either still on Kamino or already gone so he’d taken to pay special attention to the shinies they lost, the ones who hadn’t had the time to choose a name for themselves or who hadn’t yet formed close bonds with their brothers.

The following days had been dedicated to celebrating all who still lived, though Cody had reluctantly spent most of his time going over reports and filing paperwork. He’d spent what free-time he’d managed to squirrel away continuing his research on asexuality, preparing himself for The Conversation, take two.

This time he’s determined not to _kark_ things up. Hence bothering Rex and forcing him to be his sounding-board.

“Alright, so this is what I’m thinking.” Cody leans back in his chair in his small office. “The main things I need to know are: what his boundaries are, what will our relationship look like and how do we make it work. He’s admitted to having experience with previous relationships so I’m really counting on him there to tell me how things need to be done. Sounds reasonable, right?”

“ _I guess_.” Rex edges, hand rising to scratch awkwardly at the back of his head.

Cody narrows his eyes. “You don’t sound too convinced.”

Rex shifts where he’s sitting, clearly uncomfortable. His hand goes to fidget with the edge of his _kama. “Look, Cody. You’re making it a bit too much about yourself, you know? Which isn’t wrong seen as how you’re half of the relationship, but I think that you maybe need to reassure him a bit. You know, let him know that you didn’t court him just to have sex with him_ .” He pauses to glance at Cody. “ _You didn’t, right?_ ”

“Of course not!” He exclaims, offended by what his little brother is implying.

Rex raises his hands in a peaceful gesture. “ _I was just making sure. You were pretty intoxicated when you announced you wanted to_ _c_ _ourt General Kenobi_.”

Cody gives himself a minute to calm down. He had been pretty intoxicated, that is true, so Rex’s question isn’t exactly based on mere speculation. Reflecting on his brother’s words he realizes that maybe Rex is on to something. Cody is so used to Obi-Wan being always calm and in control, that he hadn’t really thought about the fact that his Jedi could very well be in need of some reassurance. Having experience with past relationships means that something happened to make them end.

“Reassure him,” he murmurs to himself. “I can do that.”

“ _That’s good_ ,” Rex comments. “ _You know, you have your own concerns, legitimate ones, but I’m sure he has some of his own_.”

“Like?” His little brother is being incredibly helpful, might as well glean as much advice as possible.

Rex shrugs his shoulders and looks away. “ _I don’t know. Sex is important to lots of people, so maybe he’s afraid that what he has to offer won’t be enough for you._ He _won’t be enough. Or maybe he doesn’t really believe that you’d want to stay with him for the long haul. That you’ll be okay for the moment, but when a ‘true’ romantic partner comes along, you’ll trade him for him. Stuff like that._ ”

“Wow.” Cody looks at his brother with vaguely awe-struck eyes. “You’re really good at this, Rex.”

Those are some pretty legitimate concerns which Cody has failed to take into consideration. He’d been more preoccupied with the technical side of things, completely disregarding the fact that Obi-Wan probably has his own pressing concerns to worry about. Cody had believed that if they could figure out how to make their relationship work, the rest would be easy. He’s clearly underestimated what it will take to make things work.

Maybe he hasn’t been doing such a good job of courting Obi-Wan as he had believed.

He shakes his head, pushing those problems to the back of his mind. If he hasn’t been doing a good job, it’s time to set things right and do better. The conversation he’s going to have with his Jedi serves exactly that purpose.

Cody leans forward in his chair to check his chrono. It’s almost time for him to go.

“Hey, by the way, how come you’re still single if you’re so good at all this, Rex?” He asks with genuine curiosity.

Rex rolls his eyes. “ _I prefer to focus on the war instead of romance,_ vod _._ ”

Cody thinks about that for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “Fair enough.” He looks his little brother in the eyes, trying to convey what he’s feeling as much as he can. “Thank you for this, _vod’ika_. For everything, really.”

His little brother ducks his head and though the hologram can’t convey any color beside shades of blue, Cody knows Rex is trying to hide a blush.

“ _You’re welcome._ ” Rex waves a hand in farewell before quickly closing the call.

Cody snorts a laugh. Ah, his little brother, always so bashful when Cody genuinely thanks him for anything.

Alone in his office, Cody checks how much time he has left before he has to leave to meet with his Jedi. He still has enough time to go over his notes one more time and order his thoughts. Rex has given him a lot to think about, which he now needs to incorporate with what he had already taken into consideration.

There are a few things he needs to keep in mind if he wants his conversation with Obi-Wan to be different from their previous one. First of all, he needs to apologize again. It is imperative that his Jedi knows that Cody is aware of how much his words have hurt Obi-Wan and he does not consider himself off the hook, so to speak. Second, throughout the conversation, Cody needs to remind himself that Obi-Wan being asexual is not a choice his Jedi has made, it’s just part of who he is. Which leads to third, they need to speak clearly and openly about boundaries.

The third one might be the hardest. Cody is starting to believe that he might be as tactless as Boil. There can be no room for misunderstanding if they want to be on the same page, so Cody really needs to be frank in discussing what he wants in a relationship with Obi-Wan, listen to what his Jedi wants, and then work to find a compromise from there. The tricky part is how to do all this without making Obi-Wan feel like he’s a particularly exotic specimen that needs to be analyzed to figure out how Cody has to deal with him.

A beeping sound coming from his personal datapad, alert Cody that it is time for him to go if he wants to arrive to Obi-Wan’s a few minutes early.

Cody’s sleeping quarters are in the same hallways as Obi-Wan, right next door to be honest. His office, on the other hand, is not exactly on the other side of the ship but it is still quite distant. Cody had purposefully decided to spend the time prior to his appointment with Obi-Wan in his office, forcing himself to walk throughout the whole ship to get to his destination. Walking along crowded corridors and riding in the turbolifts with sympathetic-looking brothers, gives him the time to dispel some of the excess energy he feels cursing through his body and settle his mind.

By the time he stops in front of Obi-Wan’s door, he feels ready.

He places his hand on the pad next to the door and watches it slide open silently. Obi-Wan is right there, looking at him and smiling softly as he steps to the side to make room for Cody.

The Commander takes a step forward into his Jedi quarters.

The door slides closed behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Osik - "Shit"  
> Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum - "I am still alive, but you are dead, I remeber you, so you are eternal" ritual words usually followed by a repetion of the names of the ones being remembered.  
> Ni ceta - "I kneel" it's a very strong form of apology


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to talk like the adults we are. Plus, Rex being tired of his older brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I haven't abandoned this fic, I've just been busy! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Cody has never been so nervous before. Not even the eve of his first battle has been this nerve-racking.

They don’t immediately start talking about what their relationship is going to be like, nor do they talk about their expectations and what they are willing to compromise on to make things work. No, they make _small talk_ instead. Cody recognizes what Obi-Wan is doing as the Jedi invites him to sit down on the couch and brings out his ever-present tea set (this time he even brings out sweets, and Cody really doesn’t want to know where he got those). He’s trying to make both Cody and himself feel more at ease, settling both of them before they dive into what is no doubt going to be a rough conversation. Cody has seen him do the exact same thing hundreds of times, with hundreds of politicians, so he knows it works. Usually.

Somehow, the idle chit-chat is making him even more nervous than he already is. The whole situation is simply brutal on his nerves.

He munches distractedly on two crumbly, cookie-like things with some kind of cream in the middle, while he listens to Obi-Wan talk and talk and talk about something that happened between the Jedi Order and the Senate. Maybe. He’s really not sure. Cody likes hearing Obi-Wan talk, he really does, and he finds it easy to listen to his Jedi whenever he speaks. There’s something about the way his accent sounds, curling around the words in a way so unlike Cody’s and his brothers’. Cody could listen to him talk for hours and never get bored.

At the moment, however, he can’t help but go over and over his talking points in his mind. He’s scared out of his mind that he will say something offensive again, or he’ll misinterpret what his Jedi will say, and he’ll _kark_ everything up. But this is it, this time. This is his second chance, and he’s pretty sure he won’t get a third if he messes up.

“Wouldn’t you agree, Cody?”

Cody blinks. “What?”

Obi-Wan smiles thinly. “I can see my plan is failing miserably.”

Cody grimaces. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you, I just…” He huffs out a breath and brushes away the cookie crumbs from his pants. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

He looks down as Obi-Wan delicately sets his teacup down on the low table beside the couch. He feels the couch dip as his Jedi slides closer, a hand suddenly rests on top of his, halting his nervous fidgeting. Cody looks up into Obi-Wan’s eyes. He’s struck by the depths of the feelings he holds in his heart for this man. It feels like they could overwhelm him in the most beautiful way if he would just let them. There’s the promise of everything he could ever hope and dream for, all wrapped up in the rapid beating of his heart.

He’s come so close to losing it all.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his free hand clasps Obi-Wan’s on top of his.

“I have already accepted your apology, Cody. You don’t need to apologize again.” Obi-Wan’s voice is soft, gentle.

Cody shakes his head. “I do need to apologize again,” he insists. “I spent the last two weeks reading everything I could find on asexuality, and the more I learned, the more I realized that I said all the most hurtful things I could find.”

Had their conversation been a minefield, Cody would have stepped on every single one, spreading destruction wherever he went.

“You didn’t deserve—” he stops, and shakes his head. “You don’t deserve the things I said to you. Every word I said...I know now it invalidated you, your experiences, your feelings.”

“Cody…” Obi-Wan tries to intervene.

“I know what that feels like,” Cody keeps talking. He knows Obi-Wan well enough to know that he will push aside his hurt, he will make things easier for Cody. His Jedi has already accepted his apologies, for him the case is closed and he wants to move on. That’s fine. Cody, however, needs to do this. “Back on Kamino, the longnecks treated us like things. Even when we started giving ourselves names, they kept calling us by numbers. They didn’t listen because they didn’t care. To them, we were always products to sell to the Jedi. The Template wasn’t much different.”

Obi-Wan’s fingers move underneath his hand, and Cody feels his thumb stroking the back of his hand in rhythmic brushes.

“It’s not the same thing,” he says, assurance in his voice. “Your words were hurtful, yes, but you spoke like that because you didn’t know. The Kaminoans know perfectly well what they are doing when they ignore your identities.”

Cody nods. It’s the truth, there is no point in denying it. No brother has ever had the naivete to think that the longnecks don’t know the hurt they inflict with their behavior. Their cold, analytical minds are always striving for perfection in their products, always tweaking a gene here and there. They have created the clones to be perfect soldiers and weapons, personalities and quirks have never been part of their carefully studied plan. Calling their products by the names they have chosen for themselves, means accepting that their perfect creations have developed beyond what they had been intended to be.

“I still apologize.” Cody looks his Jedi in the eyes, trying to convey his sincerity. “I want you to know that I understand what I did, and I will not apologize simply through words.”

“Alright, then. If you think it’s necessary,” Obi-Wan acquiesces with a small nod. “Personally, the matter is now behind us.”

He leans forward to pick his teacup back up. Holding the saucer in one hand, he gently raises the cup with the other, pinkie finger sticking out. He takes a small sip before resting the cup on its saucer and putting everything down on the table. With a quick gesture, he brushes the back of his pointer finger under his mustache, surreptitiously dabbing at the traces of tea left behind.

Cody observes all this with attentive eyes. He thinks about the fact that he almost threw all of this away. It’s such a small thing, it’s just Obi-Wan drinking his tea, but he treasures these things he knows about him, like he treasures everything about his Jedi. He catalogs all these little gestures in the back of his mind, pieces of the complex puzzle that is Obi-Wan.

“So,” Obi-Wan says, folding his hands in his lap. “I think we should discuss what we met to discuss, don’t you agree?” He searches Cody’s face to gauge his reaction. “You said you had questions for me.”

“Yes,” Cody clears his throat, shaking himself from his silence. “Yes, I do need to ask you some things.” He hesitates here, unsure how to word his fears.

“Cody?”

He looks at his Jedi. Obi-Wan’s eyes are crystal clear pools, expression open and welcoming. Cody remembers how he’d closed himself off the last time, when he had drawn attention to Obi-Wan’s lack of sexual experience. The mood is different now, there’s an understanding between the two of them that there wasn’t the last time they attempted to talk. Cody still fears provoking that same reaction with how personal some of his questions are.

“I’ve read everything I could, but I admit I don’t know how those words translate into an actual relationship,” he starts, eyes going from Obi-Wan’s face to his own hands, fidgeting with his blacks. “I want to ask you so many things, personal things that I think we should lay out in the open. But I don’t know how to ask them without sounding like…”

Like the last time they spoke.

Cody chances a glance at Obi-Wan. His Jedi is looking down at his cup of tea, one hand slowly stroking his cheek. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, merely pensive. It lifts Cody’s spirit to know that his Jedi, of course, understands how delicate the situation is, and how much Cody wants everything to go smoothly this time. Obi-Wan is the one with more experience on this front, the one who has been in a relationship before. Cody has only one-night-stands under his belt, which have worked just fine for him, but they have left him with no idea on how to navigate a relationship that is not based only on sex.

He feels lost in his wants. In the few holo-novels and holo-vids the clones have managed to scrounge up during the war, relationships seem to develop through sex. Two people meet, there’s interest, then attraction and then sex. Afterwards, if both parties are willing, a relationship develops. Sex is always present, it is the common denominator, the starting-line. Cody is aware that holo-novels and holo-vids are not always an accurate depiction of reality, but they are what he has to base his opinions on.

Obi-Wan doesn’t want sex. After everything he’s read, Cody understands that a little bit better. Though it does mean he’s left without solid ground on which to stand on.

“I have a proposal for you,” Obi-Wan says, immediately drawing Cody’s attention back to him. “I think you are absolutely right in saying that we need to, as they say, lay our cards out in the open. For this reason, I believe the best approach to be one of honesty.” He takes a moment to smooth the wrinkles out of his tunics. “I will answer any question you have for me, and I promise to be as forthcoming in my answers as I can be. I only ask that you be considerate in how you ask your questions.”

Cody muses over his Jedi’s words. He had been hoping for this kind of reassurance. When they had spoken the previous time, Obi-Wan had said that Cody knowing about his asexuality was necessary for him to make his choice. He’d misunderstood everything the first time. Now he knows better. His first instinct is to say that he wants Obi-Wan. Period. Now he understands that things are not so simple. It would be unfair to both of them to act rashly and ignore what could realistically be a huge problem between them.

He needs to know where the lines are drawn.

“It sounds fair to me,” he tells Obi-Wan. “But I want you to promise that you’ll tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“Of course, Cody.”

“Alright. Here we go.” He already knows what his first question is. He is reasonably sure he knows the answer to it, but he won’t risk any more misunderstandings. “Last time, when I told you I am interested in a stable relationship with you, you said that you felt the same. Did you mean that your interest in me is romantic?”

“Absolutely, yes,” Obi-Wan answers immediately, no hesitation. “I value your friendship so much, Cody, and if this shouldn’t work out, I would hope that we would still be part of each other’s lifes as friends. But my interest in you, as it is, is primarily romantic in nature.”

Cody nods along, one hand squeezing his knee in relief. “Good, good. That’s good,” he murmurs, feeling lighter. “It’s the same for me.”

Obi-Wan smiles encouragingly at him.

The next part is where things get tricky. Cody reminds himself that Obi-Wan has agreed, and is indeed actively encouraging, this open conversation. If they want to understand one another, there can be no space for embarrassment between them. It’s better to drag everything out in the open now, instead of letting things unsaid.

“Alright, here is where I get personal,” Cody warns Obi-Wan.

“It’s alright.”

Cody nods to himself. He takes a moment to order his thoughts before speaking. “You said, last time, that you don’t like sex. That you’ve never tried it. I take it, it is not something you would be willing to try?” he grimaces, that didn’t come out exactly the way he wanted it. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t expect you to force yourself to try it for me. I’m just curious about what you feel? Do you feel no interest at all for sex? Is that it?”

Obi-Wan hums low in his throat, slightly nodding. “I would say that, as far as sexual attraction goes, I am at a stable zero. I truly don’t experience it. I never have and, if I have to make an educated guess based on the past thirty-five years of my life, I seriously doubt I ever will experience it.”

“Is it a thing in general?” Cody asks, feeling nervous.

“What do you mean?” his Jedi asks with a tilt of his head.

Cody clenches his hands together, needing something solid to grasp and steady himself. “Your not liking sex, is it a general dislike for everything sex-related or is it more restricted?”

Obi-Wan looks unsure as he answers, words coming out slowly. “I don’t really mind talking about sex or seeing it. It doesn’t particularly bother me, if that’s what you want to know.”

Cody shakes his head. That’s not what he meant, although it is good to know that talking about all of this is not making his Jedi uncomfortable. He rakes his fingers through his hair, pushing back the nerves at having to explicitly say what he means.

“No, I meant is it the...penetration that you don’t like?” he manages to say. “Would it be different if _you_ were to take _me_? Or if we were to do something different than, you know, penetrative sex?”

It had been a revelation to learn that what he had always considered to be sex (what the longnecks had taught them sex to be), is just a small part of what sex can be. Sometimes sex could be just hands and mouths running over each other’s bodies, or it could be toys used on one another. All that is really needed is consent from both parties, and everything else can be established as things go along.

It’s what got him thinking about his own experiences. In all his liaisons, he’s always been the active party. He’s never considered the idea of being on the receiving end of penetrative sex, and none of his partners has ever expressed the intention of switching things up. But if Obi-Wan prefers it that way, Cody is more than willing to give it a try.

“Oh!”

Obi-Wan’s exclamation draws Cody’s attention back to his Jedi. There’s a light flush rising on his cheeks, and it makes Cody smile, despite everything, to know that they are both quite thrown by the conversation they are having. It’s not so much a question of being embarrassed by having to talk explicitly about sex, but more a question of having to be so blunt with their preferences instead of slowly discovering them over the course of their relationship.

“...I hadn’t considered this line of questioning,” Obi-Wan says, eyes lowering. “I suppose it’s a legit question to pose, though.”

Cody hadn’t been sure, but all the texts he’d read had taken great care in detailing that asexuality isn’t simply black and white. Having no sexual attraction doesn’t necessarily mean not wanting sex.

“Well,” Obi-Wan says, collecting himself. “It doesn’t really make a difference which role I would hypothetically assume. I just don’t like any kind of penetrative sex. It makes me uncomfortable to even imagine myself into a situation like that. That would be off the table between us.”

Obi-Wan looks at him intently, and Cody stifles the disappointment he feels bubble beneath the surface before it can grow. He’d stepped into this conversation knowing that, in all probability, Obi-Wan would have answered exactly like this. He is just confirming something Cody already expected.

“Alright, no sexual attraction,” Cody confirms, wanting to offer reassurance. “But you do have a libido, right? I read that they are not the same thing.” He’d never thought about that particular distinction before his recent research.

His Jedi nods. “No, they are not and yes, I do have a libido.” He scrunches up his eyebrows, a finger moving slowly back and forth over his chin. “It’s probably lower than normal, though that opens up an interesting debate over what exactly is ‘normal’ when it comes to libido, when it’s too high or too low.”

“Does that mean that you would like to do some things?” Cody raises his hands. “Non-penetrative kind of things?”

Obi-Wan frowns and looks down, seemingly taking into serious consideration Cody’s words. “I will be honest and tell you that I don’t know for sure.” He shrugs his shoulders in a helpless move. “I wish things could be clearer, for you and for me, but they aren’t. Generally speaking, when my libido, let’s say, kicks-in, it’s never really directed at anyone. Were we to continue our relationship, I suppose it could be possible for it to be directed at you, but it might also not be.” He licks his lips and looks Cody in the eyes. “For our purposes, I think it would be better to think that I won’t suddenly experience some form of sexual attraction in the future.”

“I understand,” Cody says.

And he does understand. He sees clearly the strategic value in taking Obi-Wan’s complete lack of sexual attraction and desires as their baseline, working their way up from there. It would be worst for both of them to decide what to do, believing in something that might never happen for Obi-Wan. It would just keep on creating expectations that would never be fulfilled, piling frustration and self-deprecation inside both of them. That’s not the kind of relationship that can last long, that can endure what their lives throw at them on a daily basis. Even Cody knows that.

It’s still a lot to take in.

“May I ask a question to you?”

Cody nods eagerly, grateful for the chance to keep their conversation going. He feels like they are doing quite well, progressing steadily, and he doesn’t want to lose their momentum.

“Is a sexual component in our relationship essential to you? Because if it is, I don’t see how we could make this work.” Obi-Wan says somberly.

“It’s not...maybe...I-I don’t…” Cody stumbles over his words, before breathing out and uncertain, “I don’t know…”

He’d been expecting a question like this. Since the moment it had been clear that he and Obi-Wan wouldn’t have a ‘regular’ relationship, Cody had asked himself what role sex played in his idea of a life with his Jedi. The truth is, he doesn’t know. Over the last two weeks, he has oscillated between believing that sex isn’t important compared to everything else, and thinking that he can’t possibly swear off sex for the rest of his life. It’s an exhausting thought process, and it leaves him frustrated with himself.

He’s not used to not knowing what he’s supposed to do.

“Alright, let’s see if we can make things clearer,” Obi-Wan proposes. Cody relaxes at his tone of voice, it’s the one he uses with General Skywalker and Commander Tano when they need guidance. It’s a voice that only ever brings about clarity. “What is a relationship for you, Cody? When you close your eyes, and you think about us, what does that look like?”

Cody tries to do that. He closes his eyes and tries to think about them together. He comes up blank, which only serves to frustrate him more.

“I don’t know.”

“Try harder,” Obi-Wan orders gently.

Cody blows out a frustrated breath, “I told you, I don’t know.”

“See, I don’t believe that,” Obi-Wan insists, undaunted. “When you started courting me, you must have had a plan in mind. I don’t believe you to be the kind of man that does anything without a plan.” A subtle glint appears in Obi-Wan’s blue-gray eyes. “Unless you intend to tell me that you courted me just to get under my tunics.”

“Never!” Cody’s eyes snap up to meet Obi-Wan’s.

Obi-Wan’s lips are curved in a humorous smile, and Cody recognizes immediately that his Jedi had been teasing him, trying to provoke a reaction out of him. He shakes his head with an embarrassed chuckle. He certainly succeeded in provoking him. The mere thought of his Jedi thinking that he’d started the Courting simply to bed him, left Cody feeling a deep-seated anger welling inside him. A _Mando’ad_ doesn’t court someone to sleep with them. Courting is sacred, to be initiated only when seeking a life-partner. That’s what the Template taught them, and that’s how Cody sees it.

By the amused tilt of Obi-Wan’s lips, his Jedi knows it too.

“I’m sorry,” Cody murmurs. He figures he owes an explanation for his snappish reaction. “On Kamino, the longnecks never taught us anything about relationships. I think they didn’t see a point to it. Why teach us something that we would have no use for, you know? The Template taught us about the Courting, but he did leave out how a relationship is supposed to look like.”

He stops for a moment. The words taste sour in his mouth. It’s hard to admit being so lacking in something. On Kamino, being less than perfect at anything resulted in punishment, if not decommissioning. Cody is aware that he no longer risks to pay such a high price for admitting ignorance. Obi-Wan always encourages him and his brothers to ask any question they want, to seek knowledge. Sometimes, it’s just hard to remember all that. The habit to defend himself when found lacking, is just too ingrained in him.

He reaches for the cup of tea Obi-Wan had prepared for him at the start of their evening. It’s cold, by then, but not unpleasantly so.

“I am courting you because I have feelings for you,” he says softly after a sip of tea. “I want to be with you, but I don’t know how. I’ve had sex before with different men. That’s easy, I know how to do that. This?” he gestures to the two of them. “Us? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know what a relationship looks like, and I believe ours would be considered an unconventional one, wouldn’t it? I have no frame of reference. I just...I don’t know.”

Cody sits in an awkward silence, fingers tracing patterns on the sides of the simple tea-cup in his hands. It feels awful to confess his ignorance so plainly, so much so that he almost opens his mouth to retreat every word he’s said. But then he remembers who he’s talking to, and why.

He looks at Obi-Wan and sees only care in his eyes. That and a deep sadness that leaves him breathless. At the beginning of the war, he might have confused that stare for pity, and felt offended by it. But he knows Obi-Wan, and he knows that his Jedi is not pitying him but _feeling_ for him. For all of them, really. For the childhood, the life, they’ve never had. For the fact that Cody knows everything about any kind of weapon used by the Republic, knows every strategy and how best to apply it to any situation, knows how to maim, stun and kill his enemies, but he doesn’t know how to be with someone.

“Do you want to know what a relationship is to me, Cody?” Obi-Wan asks him and Cody nods quickly. He needs someone to teach him about this. “To me, being in a relationship means sharing yourself with someone else, hiding nothing. It’s sharing thoughts, hopes, dreams and even grief, loss and pain with this person. It’s building a life together, making plans for how the future will go and then sticking together when everything goes wrong. It’s knowing that you’ll always have someone in your corner when you need it, and that, sometimes, you’ll have to be the strong one and fight for the both of you.” He smiles softly and looks at Cody. He sees stars in those eyes, entire galaxies of untold beauty and words so deep and filled to the brim with feelings that his own eyes start to burn. “It’s caring so deeply for one another, that you have to ask yourself how you could have been so arrogant as to say that you knew what love was before meeting this person.”

“Is that what it has been like for you? With the others, before?” Cody manages to ask.

Obi-Wan shakes his head lightly, his smile turning wistful. “Not really. A couple of them made me think that maybe that was it, maybe I’d found the right person for me. Though, in the end, things didn’t work out and I suppose it’s better that way. We just weren’t meant to be.”

“And the others?” Cody asks, not liking the melancholy that seems to have taken a hold of his Jedi.

Obi-Wan huffs a laugh and reaches for his cup of tea. “Oh, the others were just bad decisions all along, made because I listened to everyone else but me.” He drinks a long sip of tea.

Cody tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

His Jedi shrugs his shoulders, affecting nonchalance even if Cody can see clearly that it’s all a facade. “You know, growing up there are certain expectations for how a relationship is supposed to look like. The Jedi Order isn’t much different than the rest of the Galaxy on that front. At a certain point, all my friends started to want and feel things that remained unreachable to me.” He smiles at Cody. “My Master thought I was simply shy and tried to encourage me to go out and make new experiences, and to be honest with you, I thought he was right.”

“You didn’t always know you were asexual?”

It’s a strange thing to imagine for Cody. He’s always known that he is attracted to men, and he thinks the same is true for his brothers and their sexuality. Maybe it has something to do with the way the longnecks had neglected to explain anything to them regarding sex and sexuality. Left to their own devices, the clones had developed their preferences with no one telling them whether they were right or wrong in their attractions.

Clearly, things didn’t work like that for his Jedi.

“For a long time I didn’t suspect that what I was feeling was any different to what everyone else was feeling,” Obi-Wan says. “That’s why I strove to do what all my friends were doing. Let me tell you, being in a relationship because you think that’s what you’re supposed to do, is not a healthy way to be with someone.”

His Jedi finishes his cup of tea and stands up, gathering the used cups and pots and taking them to his little kitchenette. Cody watches him move, turning his words this way and that in his mind. His Jedi spoke lightly of his first experiences, but Cody can’t help but find his words disturbing. It sounded to him as if he had been forced to be in a relationship, perhaps Obi-Wan had even forced _himself_ to do things he didn’t want to do.

Cody’s stomach churns uncomfortably and he stands up, quickly joining Obi-Wan.

“Obi-Wan?”

His Jedi turns to look at him, seriousness taking over his expression as he takes in the nervousness Cody is projecting all around himself.

“I didn’t force you, right?” Cody twists his hands together. “When we first kissed, did you want that? Because I was the one who kissed you and you had this moment where you froze and--”

Obi-Wan steps up to him quickly, one hand stopping his nervous fidgeting, while the other goes to cup his cheek and tilt his head up. He meets Cody’s eyes directly, and speaks slowly and firmly. “At no point did you ever force yourself on me, Cody. Do you hear me? You caught me by surprise that day, but I wanted to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. I never felt pressured by you, in any way.”

Obi-Wan holds his gaze until Cody relaxes in his hold, nodding to let his Jedi know that he accepts his words.

“Alright. If you say that you wanted to kiss me, I believe you.”

“As you should,” Obi-Wan says lightly.

Cody lets himself be led back to the couch. He sits down close to Obi-Wan, and focuses on the warmth of their shoulders pressed together. He smiles when he feels his Jedi leaning against him. He’s well aware of how lucky he is to still have this, their simple closeness. This is how their conversation should have gone the first time. Maybe, if he’d listened instead of letting his own emotions get out of control, they could have already moved on with their relationship. Cody feels so close to figuring out what to do, almost as if he had only one more step to make.

“We haven’t talked about what you want, Cody.” Obi-Wan says, leaning back slightly.

“What I want?”

His Jedi nods. “We talked about what my boundaries are, but we didn’t talk about what you want and need.”

When Cody thinks about it, he realizes that it’s true. He’s been so bent on establishing what Obi-Wan needs to feel comfortable, that he hasn’t talked about his expectations. Well, they still have time, and he already knows, more or less, what he absolutely cannot go without.

“Physical contact is very important to me,” he says, glancing at his Jedi to gauge his reaction. “I don’t mean just hugging and things like that, but also general touches. I’m a very tactile person.” They all are, really.

On Kamino, affection only came in the form of brushing shoulders among batchmates, playful slaps on backs, pretend-fights with prolonged body contact, cuddle piles in the barracks whenever they could. It’s the last one that Cody really misses. Being the highest ranking clone in the GAR, and the Commander of the 212th , are privileges he knows he has to keep close. He wouldn’t throw away what he’s earned by working hard, and he loves being the brother in charge, the one who has to take care of all the others. He’s a caretaker, always has been, always will be. It’s what he’s good at.

But his rank has created an insurmountable distance between him and his brothers.

It’s not that his brothers avoid touching him, it’s that the casual physical affection they had before, now has to be limited. Cody is the superior officer, he has to make sure that ranks are obeyed. He does his best to treat the men fairly, let them know that he’s on their side and they can talk to him freely. But there has to be a limit to the camaraderie. It means that Cody can’t mingle with his brothers the way he wants to, and he certainly can’t participate in the cuddle piles that were once his favorite way of falling asleep.

Obi-Wan has been surprisingly generous in the amount of physical contact he’s allowed. Cody would hate to lose that too.

“Anything else?” his Jedi asks him openly.

“Kissing too,” Cody edges, feeling bolder. “I didn’t use to think much about kissing, but you’ve definitely changed my mind about that.”

He smiles at the way Obi-Wan straightens beside him, a proud smile curving his lips. “Have I?” he asks, smile stretching even more when Cody nods. “Well, you’re in luck. I happen to be a fan of physical contact and kissing.”

“I’m a little surprised, I won’t lie. You’re usually very reserved in your displays of affection,” Cody admits. “Which I like!” he hastens to add.

Obi-Wan shifts beside him, looking to the side, unsure. “While I am a reserved person, that’s not why I usually refrain from more...open affection.” Cody remains silent, listening attentively. “I’ve learned over the years that, when it comes to touching, most people seem to read more into it than what is actually meant. The same with kissing. It’s like they are precursors to sex, so I try to limit myself.” His Jedi looks up at him, his smile once again widening. “It would be different with you. As long as we are both aware that touching and kissing won’t lead to sex, I would be more than happy to share them with you.”

That’s really good news to Cody. Obi-Wan had insisted that he’d wanted to kiss him, but a small part of Cody couldn’t help but wonder. Obi-Wan has no reason to lie, if he says that he wants to do something, Cody is inclined to believe him. After hearing him talk about feeling pressured into doing things he hadn’t been sure he wanted, Cody is left in a state of uncertainty. Hearing Obi-Wan talk so excitedly, even teasingly, about kissing and touching, is a balm that soothes Cody’s nerves.

For the first time in two weeks, he feels like he can finally breathe easy. Reading about asexuality and discovering that there could be ways for the two of them to be together, had given him hope. Having Obi-Wan talk about his own experience with his own asexuality, has given him something to anchor him.

He has just one more step to take. The hardest.

“I’m glad we had the chance to talk,” Cody begins, hand reaching for Obi-Wan’s. His heart skips a beat when his Jedi doesn’t shy away. “It really helped a lot.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in this sentence,” Obi-Wan says lightly.

Cody recognizes the way he’s trying to hide behind a casual attitude. “It’s nothing bad. I just wanted to know if you would give me some time to think things through.”

“Time?”

“I told you, I want to be with you,” Cody runs his thumb over the back of Obi-Wan’s hand in a soft caress. “I knew that when I started courting you, and I know it now. Talking about what our relationship would be like, it helped a lot. But I want to be absolutely sure about my decision.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head minutely, and Cody grits his teeth at the stilted smile his Jedi shows him. “You don’t need to explain. You have every right to take some time for yourself.”

Cody slides closer still, wanting to be understood. “I want you to listen to me, Obi-Wan,” his Jedi’s eyes snap to his. “I’m not asking for time so that I can think about ways to end things between us. When I tell you that I want to be with you, I want you to hear my words and know that I’ve thought long and hard about us and I am absolutely certain that you are the one that I want. No doubts, no uncertainty. Do you hear me?”

It’s something he’s been thinking about for a while. There can be no doubts, no take-backs. Obi-Wan has not yet told him why his previous relationships ended, always staying away from any detailed explanation. Cody isn’t stupid, though. The more he learns, the more he tries to put himself in Obi-Wan’s shoes, the more he starts to understand how things could have been like for him when he was younger.

He doesn’t want to jump into a relationship with his Jedi without thinking long and hard about how things would be between them. He feels sure he can get past the no-sex part of it, but he wants to be sure of that even in the future. It wouldn’t be fair to Obi-Wan if, maybe even years down the line, he were to tell him that he’s not cool with not having sex anymore.

Cody needs to know he won’t have any regrets, and Obi-Wan needs to be sure that he can behave naturally with him without having to wonder if Cody is really okay with everything.

“Okay,” Obi-Wan breathes out. There’s still a fragile sort of light in his eyes, but his voice is firm. “Okay, you’re right. I can wait. It’s only fair.”

Cody smiles softly at him. “Everything is going to be alright, you’ll see,” he reassures both of them.

Obi-Wan’s voice goes soft when he speaks next. “Can you hold me? Just for a while?”

Cody opens his arms with no hesitation, and Obi-Wan is quick to tuck himself against his side. His forehead presses against the side of Cody’s neck, arm draping across his stomach. Cody lets him shift into the position he finds more comfortable, before wrapping his arms around him, gathering him close. He buries his nose in Obi-Wan’s soft hair, sighing contentedly.

“I’ll always hold you, Obi-Wan,” he murmurs into the silent room. “For as long as you need.”

Neither of them gets much time to think in the following days.

The 212th Attack Battalion is sent right back into the thick of things. They fly all over the Outer Rim, breaking sieges and preventing the CIS from gathering more neutral systems to its cause. On occasion, they manage to avoid fighting, thanks to their General. More than once, they are all reminded of why General Kenobi has become known as The Negotiator. The rookies observe in awe as their General manages to avoid fighting, and actually brings about a victory for them, with only his words as weapons. For them, trained as they are to fight to the death, it’s like witnessing an honest to Force miracle.

The shinies’ enthusiasm is a contagious one, and Cody hates having to be the one to dampen it, to remind them that they cannot lower their guards.

Cody spends most of his time with his brothers. He’s not avoiding Obi-Wan, the tension created by their first disastrous conversation is all but gone now. They still spend almost all of their evenings together, going through the days’ events and planning ahead for their future. They try to keep their interactions as professional as possible, both aware of how counterproductive it would be to give in to the affection they both want to show until Cody doesn’t reach a decision.

Sometimes they stray into the territory of their relationship. Cody would ask a question concerning them and Obi-Wan would be eager to answer, ushering Cody one step closer.

It feels like the answer to his question is within reach. Day after day, Cody has to stop himself from marching up to Obi-Wan, take him in his arms, kiss him senseless and ask him when can they start their life together. And yet, every time there’s always a nagging doubt in the back of his mind, a doubt he can’t identify, for the life of him.

With every passing day, he feels frustration building up inside of him just waiting for the right moment to be unleashed. It’s not healthy and Bones would have more than one thing to say about Cody’s state, but he doesn’t know what to do. He knows he has to figure things out quickly. The other day, he ended up raising his voice with a shiny. The poor kid almost broke down in front of him. Waxer had descended on him in a fit of righteous fury that took Cody back to Kamino, on the days where the Template’s scrutiny had been too heavy even for Cody and he’d ended up snapping at what remained of his batchmates. Waxer had been implacable then, too.

As soon as they have a moment of downtime back on the _Negotiator_ , Cody races immediately to the gym. Weight-lifting won’t do, nor will running. He needs something that will get him moving and spending all the pent-up energy he has built up, but running mindlessly on the spot is just a waste of time at the moment. He needs something more engaging. Something that will leave him exhausted, sore and with his mind blessedly empty.

A slap to the back reveals a smirking Boil by his side.

“What do you say we go a few rounds? It’s been a while since we last sparred.”

The offer is tempting, though Boil could end up getting more than he bargained for.

“I’m not really in the mood for a friendly spar, _vod_ ,” Cody cautions his brother.

Boil rolls his shoulders, “Yeah, I figured that. It’s why I’m offering. We’ve got to get you out of this mood, _Kote_. The shinies are walking on eggshells around you.”

That they are. Cody had noticed that tendency, it’s what prompted him to do this in the first place. Even now, looking around, he sees how the younger members of their Battalion are giving him a wide berth, consciously doing what they can to avoid meeting his eyes without being blatantly disrespectful of his rank.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks one last time.

“Absolutely not,” Boil answers flippantly. “Still, we’ve got to do what we’ve got to do. Longshot! Wooley! Get your asses over here!”

The two brothers in question jog to their side, a grimace already marring their faces.

“Do we have to do this? Can’t we call someone else?” Longshot moans under his breath, though he is taping his hands in preparation for the fight.

Boil slaps him on the back of his head, “Quit your moaning, you drew the short straw and this is what you get. Not a word from you, Wooley. You know what you did.” With a menacing pointed finger, Boil turns around and starts to walk toward the area already prepared for their imminent spar.

Cody follows behind Boil, and as he leaves his brothers behind, he can hear Wooley mournfully moaning to his brother.

“I had just finished shaping the mohawk.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come to the gym, _vod_.”

The spar goes as well as Cody had imagined. The first few matches are something brutal. Cody and Boil fight like their life depends on the outcome of their match, neither pulling punches, the full strength of their bodies behind every hit. Twice they end up on the floor, their fight turning vicious as they each try to lock the other in a hold that will lead to victory. Those matches end with Gearshift separating them, narrowly avoiding having one or both of them passing out, both unwilling to concede the fight.

Cody climbs on his feet, tongue pocking the corner of his mouth to lick up the blood welling from a cut opened by Boil’s flailing hand. He catches Bones’ eyes from where he stands, just outside the perimeter of their mat. The medic’s eyes are narrowed, it’s clear he disapproves of what’s happening. He won’t intervene, Cody is sure of it, because he understands the need for this fight. The longnecks have built war into their beings, and the Template has given them the culture to reign in that violence and let it out in a constructive way.

As the matches go on, Boil switching places with Longshot first, and Wooley second, only to repeat the cycle all over again, Cody feels his blood cooling down. His mind starts to go soft around the twelfth match, when Wooley manages to pin him down. Face to the floor, his brother’s weight on top of him, Cody relaxes for the first time in days.

It’s the turning-point. From that moment, their fighting becomes more of a friendly spar than anything. Cody almost feels like he’s back on Kamino, engaging in secret matches with his batchmates after an intense day of training. The Alpha class had claimed some unused rooms for their own, turning them into much needed private spaces shared only with a select few. Cody had been one of them.

It’s strange, but he misses those days. Everything was much simpler, then.

He lets those thoughts go, focusing back on his match with Wooley. The kid shows some impressive talent in hand-to-hand combat. He’s a little naive, and his technique could use some work, but perhaps Cody has found a worthy opponent. He would need to coach Wooley, train him up to his standards, if he truly wanted a partner who would hold up his own against him. There’s also the fact that Wooley has never shown any interest in physical combat training, preferring instead to dedicate himself to blaster and sniper training. Cody would need to coax him, acting without raising any suspicions, gently bringing him about. He could be patient. If that didn’t work, he’d have to resort to drop kicking a droid or two in front of Wooley. That never failed in making the shinies suddenly interested in hand-to-hand training.

An hour later, the four of them are completely drained. Normally, their stamina would allow them to go on for hours, barely breaking a sweat, but their matches had been brutal, intense. Laying down on the floor, Cody and his brothers allow themselves to cool down. There’s a pleasant tingling running up and down his body, the tell-tale sign of well-worked muscles. Cody smiles as he gasps in mouthfuls of cool air, lungs burning as the rush of adrenaline slowly leaves his body.

From the corner of his eye, Cody sees Gearshift and Oddball grab Wooley and Longshot by their ankles. He swallows down a laugh as he observes his two younger brothers being dragged away without a single twitch.

“Come on, Boil. Up you go.”

Cody turns to look at his right. Waxer is bent over Boil, hands around his wrists to coax him into a sitting position. Boil grunts with the effort to stand up, and immediately sags against his brother, leaning all his weight on him.

“Do you need a hand, Commander?” Waxer asks him from beneath the arm he’s slinging over his shoulders.

Cody waves him away. He intends to cool down some more before going to the locker room to take a shower. Right now, moving really isn’t a priority of his.

He remains laying on the ground as his brothers leave. The gym is far from deserted, it never really is. The crew manning the _Negotiator_ lives on different cycles, so one can always find brothers and nat-born milling about. Right now, only the skeleton crew of the ship is on active duty, leaving only a brother here or there, usually the ones that sleep less for one reason or the other.

Cody lets himself go boneless on the ground, relishing in the burning of his muscles and the steady, low murmur of his brothers’ voices all around him. He’d missed this. The simplicity of a fight with his brothers where he doesn’t need to think, where the only thing that matters is letting his body do the work. Usually, he would make time in his schedule to spar with any brother available, but the last few weeks have been a nightmare, leaving him no time to relax in the only safe way he knows how.

He takes a deep breath, holds it in for a few seconds, and then slowly blows it out, like Alpha-17 taught him. He lets all his worries melt away, until he feels lighter than he has in weeks.

With a grunt, Cody rises to his feet, and starts making his way toward the locker rooms. His legs feel like they’re about to buckle under him. He looks forward to the moment he’ll be able to collapse in his bunk, spent after the long sparring session. He might even be tired enough to fall asleep immediately, no thoughts of the war and the future keeping him up. First things first, though. He needs a shower, preferably a hot one.

He expects the locker room to be empty, but Singer is in there. He’s sitting on a bench, alone, head bent over a datapad as he swipes his finger over the screen, eyes moving over the lines appearing on it. He’s wearing only the bottom half of his blacks, a towel slung around his shoulders. His hair, still kept in the standard cut given to all clones, no drawing and no dye in it, is still wet. He must have been exercising in the gym too, though Cody had been too preoccupied to notice him.

“Singer,” he salutes the man as he takes off his shirt, tossing it down a chute.

Singer jumps to his feet, “Commander, sir!”

“At ease,” Cody says distractedly. He brings his undershirt to his nose, and gags at the stench of sweat coming off of it. He chucks it down the shoot, turning slightly to look at Singer.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. He’s never been a fan of staying silent in the presence of one of his brothers.

“I was training, sir. After our...spar, I thought it would be best if I trained more in close-combat, sir.”

Cody nods, satisfied by Singer’s explanation. He would have been happy to end their conversation there, grab his things and head for the showers. Singer seems to have something on his mind, though. He’s shifting nervously where he stands, hands clutching at his datapad.

“What were you looking at when I came in?” he asks.

Singer’s eyes drop to his datapad for a moment before he tentatively holds it out.

Cody takes it and looks at the unlocked screen. It’s a long list of song titles and artists. Cody is no music expert, but it looks like all the songs have been organized in categories by genre. There’s a folder with popular songs from the clubs on Coruscant, some traditional Nautolan hymns, and even Mandalorian ballads and war songs. He opens that folder and scrolls through the songs. He recognizes some titles as the songs the Template taught them, but there are so many more he never knew existed.

He hands the datapad back to Singer.

“You have an interesting selection, there.”

Singer nods, cradling the datapad close to his chest. Cody raises an eyebrow at the way his brother seems to treasure the GAR-issue datapad as if it were his most prized possession.

“General Kenobi gave it to me. Two weeks ago, after a mission,” Singer admits.

Ah.

Well, that explains it.

Cody does the math in his head and remembers exactly when the gift was given. That brief exchange he witnessed the day he apologized to Obi-Wan. He’d wondered what his Jedi had given to Singer. Leave it to Obi-Wan to give the kid a datachip full of songs.

“Sir, is everything alright with the General?”

Singer’s questions catches him off-guard. He’s used to his brothers feeling personally invested in his relationship with Obi-Wan, but he’d believed Singer to be one of the few exceptions. Especially after the challenge Singer lost. Cody had left him alone after that (as much as he could, considering his rank), had given him time to lick his wounds in private. He’d believed Singer had decided to ignore the Courting from that point on. Apparently, he has been wrong.

Unless, he’s showing interest because he wants to know whether he has a chance now. He has a feeling that that is not the case, but one could never know.

“Why the sudden interest, Singer?” he asks, leaning against his locker. “If you want a rematch, you only need to ask. Wouldn’t be traditional, but we could make it work.”

Singer looks surprised, and vaguely scared, by his words. He shakes his head, taking a step back and humming a couple of distressed notes under his breath. His hands clutch the datapad a little tighter, tight enough that, for a moment, Cody is afraid he’ll crack it. He makes to warn the kid about loosening his grip, when Singer takes a deep breath and makes a conscious effort to relax.

“I didn’t mean it like that, sir.”

Cody tilts his head to the side. “How did you mean it?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Singer seems to be debating how to answer in his own head. “Singer is the name my batchmates gave to me,” he says, at last.

“You told me that,” Cody reminds him.

“They didn’t give me that name to be nice, they used it to make fun of me,” Singer tells him. “I’ve always felt nervous since I came out of my tube, and the _Kaminiise_ noticed that. I tried to look for ways settle my nerves because my batchmates avoided speaking to me. I suppose they didn’t want to stand to close to a brother that could end up being decommissioned.”

As horrible as that is, Cody understands that line of thinking too much. The clones are brothers, and as such they try to help one another whenever they can. Sometimes, the brothers caught lacking by the longnecks could be helped. Sometimes, they could not. Every brother knew not to be too close, in that case, lest the longnecks decided to decommission them too.

“I found a way to relax when I stumbled on the older batches singing together,” Singer continues. “Do you remember those times? Late in the night cycle, when you would all sing together?”

“I do.”

Music had been a novelty at the time, a revelation. Once the Template had taught them all the traditional songs in _Mando’a_ he knew, the clones had spent all their free time singing them over and over again. Singing had been the first non-military oriented activity they had engaged in. That Singer had found that to be relaxing, isn’t such an unusual thing.

“I started singing to myself to calm down, and I thought that would mean they would accept me now that I wasn’t risking decommission. But every time I started singing to myself they kept saying that the fact I needed to do that was a sign of my deficiency. They started calling me Singer and I knew then that nothing changed. I was still a defective clone to them. When we were assigned to our posts, I requested to be sent to a different Battalion. General Ti was kind enough to agree.”

The more Cody hears about General Ti, the more he’s convinced he needs to meet the Jedi Master. The notion that one could choose to be assigned to a specific Battalion, is news to Cody. It used to be that batches never got separated, the longnecks believing that brothers who were born, lived and trained together were more effective than single units matched with others. It is good that General Ti sees how change is necessary.

“You didn’t want to fight with your batchmates,” Cody says.

“I didn’t want to die with them,” Singer corrects him with a rueful smile. “I thought it would be better to die among _vode_ I didn’t know. Everyone here is nicer than back on Kamino, sir. The General is nicer still. Kind. Kinder even than General Ti, if I may say so.”

Hearing Singer’s words, Cody has a good idea he knows what the kid is getting at. He’s suspected Singer to be sweet on Kenobi since the moment he saw his brother set his eyes on Obi-Wan.

“I was afraid you would take him away,” Singer murmurs, not meeting Cody’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, I would take who away?”

“The General,” Singer confesses. “That’s why I challenged you. I understand now, that it wouldn’t have matter even had I won. The General isn’t mine, but at the time I thought that would be the only way to keep on being on the receiving end of that kindness.”

Cody remains silent for a long moment, mulling over his brother’s words. Things aren’t exactly the way he’d assumed they were. To him, it doesn’t sound like Singer is actually in love with his Jedi, rather that he’s unhealthily attached to the idea of who Obi-Wan is as the one person that has shown him kindness. It’s a little concerning that Singer feels this way, but his brother’s words make him hope that he’ll be able to move past this attachment. Cody still makes a mental note to speak with Obi-Wan about this. Maybe his Jedi would know of some mind-healer that could speak with Singer.

“What made you change your mind?” he asks his younger brother.

“This,” Singer says, holding up his datapad. “Everyone always teases me for singing when I’m nervous. The General doesn’t. He actually encouraged me, and he gave me all these songs because he thinks I would enjoy them. I almost couldn’t believe it when he handed the chip to me, sir.”

Cody nods. He remembers what it felt like the first time Obi-Wan directed his thoughtless kindness toward him. Cody hadn't believed what was happening, either. That a nat-born, a Jedi, would ever show kindness to a clone like him, to a non-person, it felt like a dream. A cruel one.

“You’re very lucky, sir. To have all of the General for yourself, it must be…” Singer shakes his head, unable to finish his sentence. “I don’t know what is happening between you two, but I hope everything resolves itself, sir.”

Cody doesn’t know what to say. Singer salutes him and politely asks for permission to be dismissed. Cody gives it to him, his mind thousands of miles away already. He finishes undressing like a droid, not really noticing what his hands are doing or where his feet are taking him.

Singer’s words stay with him. In the shower. Along the empty corridors of the _Negotiator_. In his bunk as he slips under the covers and stares at the durasteel ceiling of his room.

_You’re very lucky, sir._

As if Cody doesn’t already know that.

He’s aware of how incredibly lucky he is for everything. He’s lucky to have Obi-Wan and not Krell as his General. He’s lucky he gets treated humanly, and that his brothers do too. He’s lucky his feelings are not unrequited like they are in some of the holo-novels he and his brothers read. Obi-Wan is amazing, kind, considerate, a proud warrior and a skilled diplomat, his sword as cutting as his wits. And he chose Cody. By all chances, Cody should be together with his Jedi right about now, perhaps cuddled together like they did on Mandalore.

So why isn’t he? Why does he keep doubting himself like this?

Cody reaches for his commlink and calls Rex. His little brother has been surprisingly helpful up to this point, maybe he’ll tell Cody what to do this time, too. He frowns when the comm gets rejected, and tries again. Same results. His frown deepens and he switches to the private line the two of them have established at the beginning of the war. It’s a private, audio-only, channel, unblockable and untraceable. This time, the call goes through.

“ _Go away, Cody_.”

“Why were you fending off my calls, _vod’ika_? Is that how you treat your older brother?”

There’s the sound of some low cursing coming from Rex’s side, accompanied by rustling sheets and the painful bumping of an elbow against a durasteel wall.

“Vod, _I love you, but I need to sleep if I want to wake up tomorrow. Go away.”_

Cody clicks his tongue in disapproval. “I’m having a situation and you’re the only one who seems to be of any help, this days.”

“ _When are you not having a situation, these days? If this is about General Kenobi, I’m hanging up. Just go tell him you love him, and you want to be with him, and stop bothering me_ ,” Rex growls.

Cody runs a nervous hand through his hair. “That’s just it. What if I tell him I want to be with him, and years from now I realize I’m not that okay with not having sex?”

Rex strings together a series of curses that would make Alpha-17 cry. Cody is definitely going to have words with General Skywalker, no way is he letting that man pollute Rex’s vocabulary in such a way. He wonders if Obi-Wan knows that his Padawan is teaching swear words in Huttese to Cody’s little brother and, here he has to take a deep breath to steady himself, to Commander Tano as well.

“ _You’re telling me that instead of being with your General, you’re spending your time wondering if in the future things will change?_ ” Rex pauses for a moment, and Cody swears he can hear his brother’s bafflement in the silence. “ _You do realize how insane that sounds, right?_ ”

Cody feels his cheeks heat up. “When you put it that way…” he grumbles under his breath.

“ _Of course things could change, you_ di’kut _. That’s usually what happens when time passes. It doesn’t mean you w_ _ill change your mind about needing sex or not, and even if it did, General Kenobi seems a reasonable man who wouldn’t hold something you can’t help against you, as long as you’re being honest with him!_ ”

“But what if--”

“ _No what ifs!_ ” Rex interrupts him. _“Do you need sex to make your relationship work or not? Because if it’s a matter of physical pleasure, I’m sure your hands work just fine.”_ Rex releases a shuddering breath. “ _I can’t believe you’re making me say these things out loud._ ”

“You make it sound so easy…”

“ _Because it is easy. You just want to be dramatic, just like your General. You two deserve each other._ Di’kutle _the both of you_.” Rex ends their call abruptly, a grumbled ‘goodbye’ the last thing Cody hears before the line goes dead.

He is left staring at the ceiling like before. Rex’s words weren’t wrong, he knows that in his heart, but it still feels so hard to come to a decision. It’s true that, if he wants physical pleasure, his hands work just fine at getting him to an orgasm. His imagination has never let him down up until now, so he feels confident he can keep himself satisfied without Obi-Wan to play any part in that. But he wonders if he’ll starts feeling a lack of intimate touch as time goes by.

He remembers how amazing it felt to just cuddle with Obi-Wan on Mandalore. The way their bodies slotted together perfectly. Obi-Wan’s fingers scratching at his scalp. Cody’s hand running up and down his Jedi’s flank, making Obi-Wan positively melt against him. How it felt like they were the only two beings in the Galaxy, their hearts made to beat in sync with one another.

Isn’t something like that intimate enough? Isn’t that proof that sex isn’t the only way to feel close to someone?

There’s only one way to know.

Which is when everything goes to shit. It’s all so stupid. They’re in a skirmish with some battle droids, nothing unusual, nothing too hard or too dangerous. Just a regular battle that is supposed to end in a matter of minutes, no casualties, no wounded. Cody finishes dispatching the droids he and his team encountered, and he looks up and across the ravine, toward where Obi-Wan is standing close to the edge, fighting against another small dispatch of droids.

Cody isn’t worried. It’s not the first time they’ve found themselves fighting in a similar terrain, he’s confident Obi-Wan and his brothers will be finished soon.

As he watches, Waxer steps back to avoid having a battle droid falling on top of him, and his foot slips on something and skids on the ground. He sees his brother flail his arms to keep his balance and he sees how one of those flailing arms hits Obi-Wan, making him stumble. Cody catches the metal glint of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber as it falls down the ravine, and he’s about to shout at his General for losing it once again. Except his Jedi is falling down after the lightsaber, body twisting in mid-air as he tries and fails to grab onto the edge of the ravine.

Cody is jumping down after him before he even knows what he’s doing. He manages to grab onto his Jedi’s tunic and curls his body around that of Obi-Wan, igniting his jetpack to try and slow them down. It works for a while, until they hit the side of the ravine in their fall and the jetpack sputters and shuts down, leaving them once again free falling with nothing to slow them down.

As he watches the shining surface of a river get closer and closer, Cody can’t help but think that, if they survive this, Waxer is going to get latrine duty for the rest of his time in the GAR.


End file.
